


Untraveled Road

by xfayewrites



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), X-Men (Movies)
Genre: BAMF Natasha Romanov, Because let's be real I'm not gonna kill Pietro kids, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Character Relationships will be added as they happen, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Multi, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Sexy Times will definitely happen in the future, Slow Build, Slow Burn, This is something I've been working on for a bit, Tony Stark Has A Heart, and I'll explain everything, don't worry though because Charles is still Charles and Erik is still Erik, just roll with me for a while until Rose tells people her story ok, more tags will be added as I go, not X men compliant actually, smut happens but not for a while, that's just cruel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-06 22:26:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 72,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5433044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xfayewrites/pseuds/xfayewrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose was <i>out</i>.<br/>She had given this whole superhero thing a try and she had failed <i>spectacularly</i>, losing everything she held dear in the process.<br/>But what can you do when the Black Widow shows up at your AA meeting and tells you the Avengers need your help? Nobody says no to the Black Widow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. My name is Rose and I'm an addict.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at writing a fanfic-- I had this idea for quite some time and just wanted to get it out there. Let me know your opinions and your thoughts; I really appreciate every comment. Thanks for reading!

“My name is Rose and I’m an addict.”

“Hello, Rose.”

 

Her hands weren’t trembling anymore. Back in the day, they used to tremble. Her fingers would shake at the prospect of getting up and walking ahead, past the rows of people she had never seen before and she would pretend to forget the second she walked out of the room at the end of the meeting. It had taken her weeks to get to the point of actually _wanting_ to share. Now, it felt natural. Now, Rose actually liked to think that this group of people _cared_. For the duration of her speech, these random strangers became her friends, individuals she confided in—people she could trust.

For a woman that had taught herself to trust no one, this was priceless.

She didn’t look at the people in front of her, though—her gaze was locked on her hands, her nails painted in chipped black polish. She would have to fix that, soon. She was standing in front of a tiny podium, leaving her a bit elevated from the group, but she felt equal to them nonetheless.

“I’ve been sober for three years now.” she said, her gaze lifting from her hands towards the ceiling. People applauded shortly, but genuinely— _remember, they care. For as long as you stand here, they truly care_. She looked down on her hands again. “I didn’t think I’d make it.” A hint of a smile was on her lips, but it was less than genuine. She wasn’t happy. At this point, she had accepted that happiness was not an option anymore. “A—a friend of mine used to… he liked to say that—just because someone stumbles, loses their way, doesn’t mean they are lost forever.” She remembered him for a moment, the first time he told her that—her hands had been in his and his kind eyes had made her feel like she could believe him, like she could truly _trust_ him; and oh God, why was it that the only person that never betrayed her trust was dead? “Back then, I thought he was being silly— and he probably was. But that doesn’t mean he wasn’t right.” Rose looked up, her eyes wandering.

She looked through the rows, capturing a glimpse of the people in the last one—that’s when she saw her.

Red curls, black leather jacket, crossed arms and a calculating, yet emotionless look.

_Just when you think…_

Her hands trembled again, her chipped black nails digging into the flesh of her palm, leaving half-moon shapes against her skin. She looked directly at Rose—the Black Widow never shied away from anyone. Rose shouldn’t be surprised. “Thank you.”, she said, her eyes not leaving Natasha’s as she walked down from the podium and walked out. If Rose had the presence to actually think about what was happening, she’d probably be glad that she didn’t bring a bag today—she’d have forgotten it on her way out.

Rose didn’t run. Running would have been futile and there was no reason for her waste energy. Natasha would find her anyway.

So, her steps were calm and collected as she walked out of the room that hosted the meetings of Alcoholics Anonymous; the entire building was rented out for meetings of such sorts; self-help groups often used these rooms. Sometimes, a spare yoga class or two could be found doing their routines in one of the many spaces, but it was mostly a center for self-help.

Once her heels hit the pavement outside, Rose knew that she wasn’t going to have this conversation on the streets and like _hell_ was she going to follow the Widow back to the Avengers Tower—she needed neutral ground.

The bar across the street looked promising, but Rose knew that a talk with Natasha would only fuel her need for a drink, so she walked down the block to a Diner whose sign she could see from here. It was a small neon sign, writing “Jo  ‘s Diner” in green letters— as she got closer though, she realized that an _e_ was missing, which explained the odd space between the o and the apostrophe. Oh, well. It wasn’t like this was the best part of town.

Rose walked straight in, ignoring the excited welcome of one of the waitresses. She headed straight for a table in the back and sat with her back to a wall.

As expected, Natasha came in twenty seconds later, a smile on her lips that would be welcoming if it wasn’t so damn predatory. Without a word, the redhead sat down across from her. Rose said nothing. Her hands were placed on the table and after one lift of her delicate eyebrow, Natasha did the same thing. It was a smokescreen, obviously—Natasha could kill her just as easily with both hands on the table, but Rose liked to think it made her feel better. It gave her a wrong sense of safety, even though she was fully aware that she was never safe around the Black Widow.

The waitress came to pick up their orders and without looking away from the assassin, Rose ordered black coffee, no cream, no sugar, no nothing. Natasha ordered the same.

The waitress left and again, silence stretched between the two women.

“We have a situation.” Natasha began slowly. Rose was tempted to bark something inappropriate at the woman, but she knew better than to incriminate herself in the first three seconds. “We believe that we may—require your expertise on this.” Rose clenched her teeth together tightly, leaning back in her seat. Her hands remained on the table.

Natasha waited a couple of seconds, clearly expecting a reaction. As she got none, the redhead sighed. “It’s serious. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.”

Rose snorted, but the sound sounded more aggressive than sounded amused. The waitress returned with their coffee and Rose took a sip of her cup without looking away from Natasha. She pretended it was Bourbon.

Natasha kept her cup standing where it was. “Stark—he did something. Something bad. We need you to—” That was when Rose snapped. “I don’t give a fuck about what _you need_.” she hissed between her teeth, fingers trembling again.

Oh god, how long had It been that they hadn’t trembled?

“Nobody cared when I needed something. And now you have the _audacity_ to waltz in here and tell me what you _need_?” Natasha didn’t look hurt—hell, she looked as if Rose had just told her how nice the weather was. Damn emotionless Black Widow.

“Charles’ death wasn’t S.H.I.E.L.D.’s fault. Erik disappearing wasn’t S.H.I.E.L.D.’s fault, either.” Natasha explained calmly and Rose leaned back again—she felt like throwing up at this point. “ _It was_. They needed extraction, Fury didn’t send it in. Charles died because Fury couldn’t be bothered _to send a fucking extraction team_.”

Natasha pushed her lips together tightly for a long moment—Rose felt her chest rising and sinking rapidly, her heart throbbing against her ribcage like a trapped canary. God, she didn’t need this. _God_ , all she wanted was to live the rest of her days in peace. _Oh dear God_ , she wanted a drink.

“You’re in pain, I get it. You’re mad at Fury, I get that too. But this isn’t about you. Or me, for that matter. Or even Fury. A whole lot of people are going to die, unless we stop this. And I don’t think we can do it without your powers.” Natasha calmly explained; she raised her hand for a moment, palm up to indicate no harm, before she slowly pulled out a couple of bills from her jacket pocket, placing them on the table. “We’re out of options.” the Widow said quietly, her eyes searching for Rose’s. “You can go back to what you are doing now when this is over. I swear, you can go back. But Rose—“ Natasha took a deep breath before she got up from her seat. “If you don’t help us, I don’t think that any of us are going to be alive in a week.”

Rose didn’t say anything—she stared at Natasha until the redhead nodded once, leaving the Diner as quickly as she had entered.

When the woman reached for her cup, she saw her fingers tremble again (or still?), but she forced herself to ignore it as she wrapped her long digits around the mug for warmth. She felt cold. Lifting the mug to her lips, Rose took a few deep sips, closing her eyes.

 

_We can be heroes, Rose. Our powers, our mutations—we can be the better men. We have a responsibility to use them for good._

_We don’t owe them anything, Rose. We are better than them—we don’t deserve to be used. We’re not weapons._

 

She wasn’t a selfish person—she never had been. All she had wanted in her life was a roof over her head and Charles and Erik by her side. Had that been too much to ask? Rose liked to think that it wasn’t, yet here she was, sitting in a Diner and contemplating following the woman that worked for the man Rose blamed for everything wrong in her life. Charles dead. Erik gone. She was shattered.

 

Sure, blaming Fury had been the easy way out—but in Rose’ opinion, it had been the only way. She had gone through phases of blaming herself for not going with them that day—phases of blaming Erik for not protecting Charles better. Phases of blaming Charles for getting himself killed. Eventually, the only one she could effectively blame had been Fury.

 

And herself, obviously. Rose had always been _stellar_ at blaming herself.

 

But was her hatred for Fury enough for Rose to feel like she didn’t have to do this? Would she end up hating herself if she didn’t? The answer was simple. _Charles would want me to do this._

 

“Oh, this is just un-fucking-believable.” she muttered under her breath.

 

She reopened her eyes after a few long moments, before she dug for a few bills in her pocket. She left them on the table and exited the Diner in a rush, stopping on the sidewalk for a few seconds. Rose scanned the streets for a taxi and waved as one drove by her. She jumped in, her hands not trembling any longer as she closed the door behind her. “Where to?”, the gruff voice of a man asked and Rose swallowed.

 

 _My name is Rose and  I’m an addict_.

 

“The Avengers Tower.”


	2. No wonder "Captain America disapproves!" is a meme.

The Tower was huge—compared to her 5’3” height, Rose had always felt that everything around her was huge, but the Tower definitely made her feel tiny in a way that only Charles’ disapproval used to.

 

The truth was, she didn’t want to be here—but at this point Rose knew that the thought that she actually had a choice in this was ridiculous. While, of course, Natasha could have lied to her in that Diner, Rose still felt that the redhead had been genuine. (Not that she’d really know if Natasha had been lying in the first place—but let’s be real here, what the hell did she have to lose?) So, this was a life and death situation. And no matter how much Rose despised the idea of getting here and helping out, she’d rather help a little and end up alive to see the next day. Considering the fact that S.H.I.E.L.D. had never attempted to come after her after she left, she also realized that it seemed to be more serious than one would assume at the first glance.

 

She left S.H.I.E.L.D. after Charles’ funeral—that was seven years ago. Neither she nor Erik had ever been seen after; But Rose didn’t fool herself into thinking that they didn’t know where she was all along. She at least hoped that they didn’t know Erik’s whereabouts. With a sigh, the woman walked in—she was probably a sight. Her black hair fell in messy waves over her shoulders, her ripped blue jeans were tucked into black boots with a slight heel. She wore a white T-Shirt and a brown leather jacket (it had been Charles’, thus was too big on her frame). Her olive skin and slight accent often caused her to be stopped at airports or by police; Her attitude might also have something to do with it, too.

There was only one man in the foyer—he looked at her as she entered, checked with his tablet and then waved her through to the elevator. “The 70th floor, Ma’am! Agent Romanoff is waiting for you.”  Rose nodded once and stepped into the elevator. “Of course she is.” she muttered under her breath as she looked for a button to push—there wasn’t one. “70th floor?” Rose asked hesitantly and immediately, the elevator started moving. “70th floor, confirmed.” The voice was generic, robotic and hesitantly, Rose tried to open her mind to it—she was stopped by the sudden _ding_ of the elevator arriving.

 

Natasha wasn’t waiting for her, much to the woman’s surprise—in fact, Clint Barton was standing in front of the elevator, a questioning look on his face. “I owe Tasha twenty bucks.” he said as a greeting and Rose actually smiled. She had missed Clint—he was kind. He had told her he was sorry at the funeral—he had actually meant it. “You still make a habit of losing money to her?” she asked as she stepped out. She didn’t extend her hand and he did neither. Clint snorted amusedly at her comment and shrugged. “Well, I don’t really give up.” Without any further small talk, he started walking towards one direction then, motioning Rose to follow him. She did so without thinking.

 

The floor was—naked. That was the only way she could describe it. Everything was white and chrome and glass and modern; Too much for Rose’s taste, but she assumed that Stark was into it. Judging by the red and gold of his suit, she wasn’t really surprised that he had a love for the sleek modern look with a touch of _too much_. “I’m sorry about this.” he said then, turning his face towards her—Rose could see the clear outline of his hearing aid in his ear. Sometimes, she forgot he couldn’t hear so well. “Me too.” she answered, looking at the room ahead of them—she saw several people inside, obviously fighting. From afar, she could see Natasha (who was clearly the only calm person in the room), leaning against the table and looking at them coming closer.

 “It’ll be easy, kid. Don’t worry.” Clint said quietly as he leaned ahead to open the door for her. “I’m thirty-two now, Barton. I am not a kid anymore.” she answered, thanking him for the opened door with a nod before she entered.

“—peace of our time. That’s what I wanted—look, I don’t know how exactly this happened, alright? Bruce! Bruce, were we close to an Interface yet? Spoiler Alert: We weren’t. It took on a life of it’s own.” That was Tony Stark—she knew the people in the room, obviously, but even if she didn’t she would clearly make him out from the way he spoke. He didn’t really look sorry—just… confused.

The Captain, whom Stark had obviously been fighting with, didn’t respond—his eyes were locked on her and Rose didn’t bother to do anything but raise an eyebrow at him. “I’m afraid you’re in the wrong room, Ma’am.” he said slowly, testing the waters—Stark turned on his heel to look at her, completely oblivious to the fact that she had entered seconds before. It was almost comical—but Rose didn’t laugh. “You and me both, man.” she muttered under her breath, before looking towards Natasha and then back to Rogers. “Romanoff said you need help. I’m here to help.”

That certainly confused him—he looked to Natasha, his confusion slowly warping into disapproval. Rose took the time to look at him properly—she took in every muscle, every bit of him and-- _God bless America_. He was one fine specimen, that was for damn sure. She wondered whether Erskine’s Serum had made him so damn pretty of it had been part of what he looked like before. But God, his eyes. _Hell shouldn’t have eyes that blue._ “What is this about, Romanoff?” he asked calmly, but there was an edge to his voice—Rogers was definitely holding onto his last string of patience here. Rose wasn’t surprised; From the way other people in the room looked, they weren’t very patient right now either.

 

Banner looked uncomfortable—he was typing on a computer and Rose was sure that he’d rather be anywhere but here. She could sympathize. Thor looked at her with a kind look on his face—but damn, that man was a _mountain_. She felt intimidated just looking at him. Clint had leaned against the wall behind her and Natasha looked so calm, Rose wished she could steal some of that cool. “Rose used to be with S.H.I.E.L.D. She has… she’s enhanced. It’ll help with our situation.” Rogers didn’t look convinced. “You can’t bring in people we don’t know, Natasha. Not in a situation like this.” Natasha shrugged. “I know her. Clint knows her. Hill knows her. She’s good people.” Steve lifted his look from Natasha to Clint. Whatever motion Clint made didn’t quite satisfy him though, so when Steve looked back at Rose, she felt as if she was going to be buried under his disapproval. _No wonder ‘Captain America disapproves!’ is a meme._ “Ma’am—“ he began and Rose rolled her eyes, causing him to stop right in his tracks.

 

She had just rolled her eyes at Captain America. Erik would be _so_ proud.

 

“Look, Romanoff insisted that we’ll all die without my help. I get it, you don’t trust me—I don’t trust you either, by the way. But if you think you can get by on your own, by all means, man. I’d rather be anywhere _but_ here anyway. No need to give me that look, though. I am a grown up woman, Captain, you don’t have to patronize me into leaving.” Clint snickered behind her and Natasha smiled smugly. Rogers took a deep breath and looked at Natasha, then back to Rose. “So, what is it you can do, then?” he questioned, his voice forced calm. He was clearly on the last bit of calm. _Well, would you look at that. Captain America is all out of chill. He should maybe take a nap in that ice again_. Rose sat down on one of the chairs, leaving two seats between her and Nat intentionally, leaning back. “That depends on what he did.” She pointed her index finger towards Stark, letting her eyes wander over the group. Thor looked grim, Banner looked embarrassed. Rogers looked like a desperate divorced Dad at a parent-teacher conference. Natasha—well, she didn’t look like anything and Rose had her back to Clint; But she just _knew_ the asshole was smiling, or at least smirking. He had always _loved_ it when she was mouthy to people other than him.

Tony Stark seemed offended for a moment, but then he scowled like the petulant child rose thought he was. It was Bruce Banner who answered though. “We built an AI that wants to destroy the planet.”

 

Rose blinked, looking from Banner to Stark, from Stark to Romanoff and from Romanoff to Rogers. Taking a deep breath, she shook off the brown leather jacket and hung it around the back of the chair. “Well.” she said, not looking towards any of the Avengers as she spoke, “It’s a good thing that I had no plans for today anyway, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for hanging out with me so far! More chapters to come soon c: Any guesses on Rose' power yet? Leave them in the comments! Come and chat with me at http://xfayewrites.tumblr.com/ !


	3. I can kill a man with his own cell phone.

Rose was genuinely surprised about Clint Barton. Positively shocked, actually.

 

No, really. Sure, as someone who hung out in air vents most of the time, he probably had tons of information about everyone in the tower—and in all previous institutions that used to belong to S.H.I.E.L.D. But the thing that honestly surprised Rose was that he actually _remembered_. She liked to think that he spied, teased and forgot the things he teased for as regularly as other people changed their underwear. Thus, she was more than taken off guard as the archer pushed off the wall and motioned for Thor to move away a little bit, so the group had a better view of one of the many flat screen monitors on the wall as soon as Stark had finished giving her a quick rundown of what the hell happened. Hell, Rose hadn’t even thought of that. She’d have just started without considering the other people in the room.

 

_I am the only one who can read your mind, love. You have to show the rest of them what only we can see_.

 

The memory of _his_ voice made her throat close up for the smallest moment, before Rose got up from her chair, rolling up the three-quarter length sleeves up over her elbows. She walked a few steps ahead, tucking the massive strands of black hair behind her ears as she approached the monitor, swallowing. She was fully aware of the fact that six pairs of eyes were glued to her back—this didn’t make it easier. But Rose was good at this.

 

_At least so far the theory_.

 

She tentatively reached out her hands, her fingers loosely bent as she looked at the monitor. She then closed her eyes and started to really _see_.

 

Cyberkinesis was definitely _something_. In a world where about 90 % of the American adults owned a cell phone, the side capable of controlling every programmable piece of technology was basically ten steps ahead of the enemy. Thus, Fury had been ever so excited (for his standards) when he found Rose waitressing at a tiny Diner in Brooklyn—she had been barely twenty at the time and utterly shocked about a job interview from an Agency that seemed keen on accepting her powers and making her use them for good. Honestly, it made her feel a little bit like Captain America at that point—she was an orphaned girl born and raised in Brooklyn, underestimated most of her life by the people around her; And now S.H.I.E.L.D. wanted her to work for them to help save the world? It had sounded amazing.

 

Of course, Rose didn’t see past the surface for a long time.

 

For her, it was as natural as taking a breath. Contrary to popular belief, she still practiced her powers regularly, using them to keep an eye out on people she cared about (Erik) and to ensure that people who scared her stayed away (uhm, also Erik). So it was as easy thing for her to open her mind to the world that stayed hidden for everyone else. It was difficult to explain, Rose had found—she liked to say that for her, there weren’t only _people_ in the room. The programmable machinery was there as well, ever so ready to abide her every wish. She invaded the computer Bruce was sitting to hitch a ride to the Internet—and after that, she saw _everything_. Her brain was like a monitor— but much more powerful. She moved her hands slightly, as if she was shooing a fly to the side and the image in her mind changed. Her eyes were open as she did this, her lips slightly parted as she processed information faster than any person should be able to. “We can’t see.” Clint reminded her quietly and she flinched—of course. With a movement as if she was throwing something against the flat screen (she was barely moving her arm, though-- the entire movement was in her wrist), they saw what she saw.

 

There was a gasp behind her (Stark?) as she did so, but Rose didn’t turn around. She just kept making wavy motions, switching through information faster than she should be able to. She opened a file that appeared to be a police report from a small town near Osaka— with a wave of her hand the Japanese translated into English and Rose waved the file to another monitor on the right and let it appear on Bruce’ computer too. She then kept searching on the main monitor, letting the others read the police report on _metal men_ stealing parts that would be used in the making of weaponry. Someone from behind her asked quietly “Are you doing this?” (Rogers—he sounded fascinated) and she assumed that he asked Stark, because the billionaire immediately took a few steps ahead and watched her do her work. “No.” Tony answered and Rose kept working—after two more minutes, the right monitor was filled with several reports that fit the description of what they were looking for (essentially metal men, _yes Stark, I kept your Iron Legion out of this_ ).

 

“That’s neat. Why is this the first time we meet? You would’ve come quite in handy in the past--  I’m Tony Stark. Do you have a job? You should have a job. I’ll give you a job. Anything you want.” Rose took a few seconds to look at the main monitor that she had emptied, before looking at Stark in a disapproving manner. “I don’t _come in handy_. I’m a _person_ , not a pocket knife.” she muttered, leaving the job thing unanswered. Yes, technically she had a job—but Rose was certain that as soon as this was over, she’d have to go looking for a new one. Well, she wasn’t going to miss it. Natasha had gotten up from her spot, shooting Cap a look that clearly stated _I told you so_ and stopped next to Rose.

“That’s nice, but not exactly what I was thinking.”

Rose sighed— _of course_. Why should it ever be easy? “I’m not sure I want to know what you have in mind, Romanoff.” The dark-haired woman muttered, but she still turned around to face the group—Tony looked like a child in Disneyland, Thor seemed positively impressed, Cap still looked mildly constipated and Banner? Well, Banner looked as uncomfortable as she felt. At least he was smiling at her—was he encouraging her? That was nice of him.

 

“I was thinking you should take control of Ultron.”

 

Rose snorted, shaking her head—there was a chuckle in the back of her throat, but it got stuck the second she realized that Natasha was in fact not kidding.

 

“Wait—what? Are you out of your damn mind? I’ve never even interacted with an AI before, let alone controlled one! I’m not even sure I could—he could take my brain apart, for all I know!”  

 

Natasha shrugged. “I’ve seen you in Bangladesh, Madrid and Venice. Do you remember how you turned off that accidental nuclear missile launch from our communal kitchen? You _can_ do this.” Tony muttered _so handy_ under his breath. Natasha seemed to be the only one convinced, though—Rose looked for Clint automatically. He was scowling, as if he hadn’t thought of Nat going as far as this. “Yes, that was easy because they were—okay, here.” Rose leaned forward and snatched Tony’s phone out of his pocket. “This? I could make that do _anything_ for me. Why? Because it has no mind of its own. It does what the programming tells it to do, unless I say otherwise. There is no—no _will_. No free thinking. I compete with nothing. With an AI— _theoretically_ , it’d be his will against mine. And I’m saying theoretically, because, _again_ , I have never interacted with one before. It’s not even a longshot, Romanoff. It’s a fucking gamble.” Rogers scowled for whatever reason, but Rose ignored it, placing the phone back into Tony’s outstretched hand.

 

“And even if, there’s no trace of him anywhere on the internet—he must be keeping his mind in his body, like I would normally, which I can’t access unless he's in my range. You know that. And again, _if_ I were close enough, he could easily snatch me and keep me with him; if I can’t overpower him, I’m dead in a second—or well, my mind would. I guess my body’d be entirely non-responsive for the rest of my life.”

 

Her fingers were trembling again. Banner gently nudged her hand with a bottle of water (unopened, _good_ ) and smiled invitingly. She took a deep sip as Natasha scowled—she was not happy. Back in the day, that look used to give Rose the creeps—now she found herself unable to care. She took a deep sip of the water Bruce had offered her; he probably didn’t know that using her powers made her both hungry and dehydrated. “How about something else.” Stark suggested, arms crossed in front of his chest. “Ultron is slippery, using the Internet to transfer his self to wherever he wants to go. That’s why we’ll have difficulties catching him.” Rose nodded—that made sense. “How about you keep him from doing that? We smash his bodies one by one and you make sure he won’t hitch a ride on the next wi-fi and disappear to regroup?”

 

That was an actual thought. She could try to do that—it was certainly less dangerous than attempting to overpower Ultron. Hesitantly, she once again took a sip of her water. “I think that’s—I think that’s possible. Worth a try, anyway. It has better chances than the other idea.” The woman agreed afterwards, looking from Stark to Natasha. The Widow seemed pleased with the outcome (it was always hard to tell with Nat). “You will have to come to the field with us, I presume?” Rose looked up towards Steve who had just spoken. Surprisingly, his voice had gone from cold to gentle—he thought she’d be scared ( _he was right, her fingers didn’t shake out of dehydration)_. She nodded. Steve sighed. “Well, then I guess you will have to stay in the jet with Dr. Banner. He’ll protect you, I promise.”

 

Rose sighed. “I can kill a man with his own cell phone. But thanks. I appreciate the thought.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woop! Thanks for the kudos so far, guys, you really made my day with those :) Let me know if anything seems weird or difficult to understand. I had difficulties explaining Rose' powers. Anyway, leave me comments and let me know what you think! Or come and chat with me on my tumblr http://xfayewrites.tumblr.com/ .


	4. I expected it to taste like apple pie, actually.

They kept looking for information the rest of the afternoon. With Ultron deleting most of S.H.I.E.L.D’s files on his little minions ( _Wanda and Pietro Maximoff_ , Clint had explained to her with a scowl. He didn’t seem to be a fan), it was Rose’ job to figure out more about them and their connection to Ultron, while the rest of the Avengers went through hard copies of the files they had on sight. Those were tons of hard copies—Rose was glad she was stuck putting stuff on the monitor and searching the internet and any servers she could hack into. (Hacking, again, didn’t involve any programming on her part—it was like knocking on a door and smiling widely when it was opened. Stark was watching her doing her thing so often that Thor ended up smacking the smaller man on the head. Rose had turned her back to the group to hide her smile.)

 

After what felt like hours, someone gently nudged her shoulder—Rose found Clint standing there, holding a chair. He motioned for her to sit and as she did, the woman realized just how beat she felt. And how _fucking hungry_ she was. “Here.” The archer placed several bars in her hand—they had the Stark Industries logo on them. “It’s what Cap eats, too. High calorie stuff— it’s good on missions. I’m not gonna poison you.” Rose gave him a dirty look and ripped open the first package, biting in without even considering giving him an answer to this. The first bite had her hooked—the shaking in her knees (something Rose hadn’t noticed before, but Clint must have) seemed to get less.

 

“Huh.” she muttered and heard a chuckle next to her. Rose lifted her head to see Steve smiling.

 

“What? Not good?” he asked and Rose shrugged.

 

“Well, not quite what I expected. Tastes like… muesli or something. But good.”

 

Steve sat down next to her, still looking at the file in his hand. “You sound surprised. What did you expect?”

 

Rose looked over to him, shrugging. “I expected it to taste like apple pie, actually.” Clint began laughing so hard, he plopped his hand on the table, his shoulders shaking. Even Natasha smirked—only Thor looked mildly confused. Steve shook his head, but he smiled nonetheless.

 

“I don’t really like apple pie, to be honest with you.” he mumbled and Rose took another bite, glancing down at what he was looking at.

“No worries. I won’t tell Uncle Sam.”

 

Before Steve could answer though, she plucked the file out of his lap, chewing and reading at the same time. “Should’ve brought my glasses.” she mumbled, holding the file closer as she read—she raised one eyebrow as Stark stole the file from her hands and looked it over. “I know this guy—I met him before.” Rose took another bite and got up again, holding onto Steve’s shoulder for the tiniest second to steady herself before she looked at the file, standing next to Stark. “Ulysses Klaue.” She read and turned to the monitor to keep looking but Clint threw the wrapper of her energy bar at her (it was crazy how good his aim was, even with fucking _paper_ ). “Eat and then look. If you pass out again, you’re not gonna be helping anyone.” Rose rolled her eyes. “ _Yeah, dad._ ” She muttered sarcastically, but ate the bar nonetheless.

 

“I met him at a convention—he’s an arms dealer, not really that great of a guy, actually. What? I didn’t sell him anything.” Rose turned to see Steve give Tony a dirty look— _oh, those two are gonna be fun_. “What is this?” Thor suddenly questioned and pointed at something in the picture. “A tattoo, buddy. You don’t have these on Asgard?” Tony asked and Thor rolled his eyes. “No, this is a tattoo. I mean this.” An oddly shaped form was branded on Klaue’s neck. Rose leaned in to see better. “That is a branding.” Thor concluded and Rose blinked twice, accessing the internet by using the wi-fi around—it took her less than thirty seconds to find a proper match of the branding in the picture.

 

“It means _thief_ in Wakandian. Minus a few curse words.” Rose looked towards Clint, who stared at her, eyes squinted together as if he was pissed. She took a demonstrative bite.

“What? I _am_ eating, man. I can multitask.”

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t the same suit. Her old suit had been similar to Charles’ and Erik’s, dark blue with yellow accents all over it. It had been ugly as fuck. She wanted it back. The thing they had placed before her was black, tighter than Rose was comfortable with and had dark grey and purple accents. Rose was 100 % certain that Clint had something to do with the purple. The suit was similarly cut to Natasha’s, yet had a bit more padding on the chest area—obviously to shield her from any bullet wounds. _Yay, bullets. Like I missed getting shot at._

 

She fit in perfectly and as she leaned down to slip into the black boots, Rose found that the material wasn’t uncomfortably constricting. “You just happened to have that in my size.”, she said and nobody answered— _oh, right_. Rose was on one side of the lockers in the room Clint had lead her in to change—he was on the other and thus couldn’t see her. _I always forget he has to read my lips_.

 

She walked along the lockers and leaned against the end of them, waiting for Clint to be decent and walk up to her. She had seen him naked too often. She didn’t need a reminder of what he looked like. “Looks good.” Clint said as he approached her and Rose shrugged. “I take it the purple was your idea?” she questioned and turned around to face him, so he could read her lips. He grinned. “Guilty as charged.” Rose rolled her eyes and followed him to the elevator. “How did you—know?” _How did you know I’d come back to help?_

 

Clint shrugged as he looked at her—a fond smile was on his lips as they stopped in the elevator. “Roof.” He said. “Roof, confirmed.” The electronic voice said and Rose kept staring at Clint—he caved after a couple of seconds. “I just knew. You’re the kind to run, but not the kind to stay gone.” He eventually claimed. Rose chewed on her lower lip; she didn’t know what to say to that.

 

Once they were on the top of the building, Rose could see that a Quinjet was parked there. Natasha was currently entering—Steve and Thor were standing in front of it, discussing _something_. Whatever blonde, tall, muscly men discuss nowadays. “We’re leaving in five.” Clint called towards them and Rose waved slightly as she followed the archer into the Quinjet. “It’s a bit loose in the back.” Natasha said once she saw them and Rose squeaked as she felt the assassins’ cold hands pulling on the fabric of her suit. She could catch some of the fabric between her fingers in the dip between Rose’s tailbone and the swell of her butt. “It’s not loose. It’s tight as hell.” Rose grumbled, turning around to motion at the way the suit fit over her breasts and hips. “It’s supposed to be that way. It stretches when you move. No fabric gets in the way. We will change it when we come back.” Natasha explained, an amused smirk on the woman’s lips as Steve shuffled by her. The tips of his ears were red. Rose closed her eyes for a moment, shaking her head. “I’m not staying, Natasha. I did this whole hero thing. It didn’t work out. I learn from my mistakes.”

 

Natasha didn’t answer, but her smile didn’t falter either.

 

“You have to stay in the Quinjet at all times, Ma’am. Stay close to Dr. Banner—if we need to bring him in, we will call a code green and one of the others will return to protect you. Whatever happens, _do not engage_ in the fight. You’re not trained for this. All you have to do is keep Ultron from running long enough for us to destroy his bodies.” Steve was now addressing her and Rose nodded. His gaze was kind; he was looking towards her hands.

 

When Rose looked down at her hands, she found them to be trembling again.

 

To her own horror, she realized she wasn’t scared. She was _excited_.

 

* * *

 

“You’re not scared to be here?”

 

Rose looked up from the monitor she was staring at—she had spent the entire flight building a defense. Keeping Ultron from finding her was going to be the tricky part. He needed to be constricted without finding out how or why. Thus, Clint had spent the entire flight deleting every bit of information accessible about her, Charles and Erik. Stark had spent the entire flight asking what the _X-Men Initiative_ was—it wasn’t until Rose threatened him to lock him into his suit for the rest of his life that he actually shut up.

 

She didn’t want to talk about it. Stark didn’t need to know. Nobody needed to know.

 

Now, she was sitting in the Quinjet with Dr. Banner—well, she was sitting and placing strategic one-way streets for Ultron to get caught in. Banner was standing, staring at the ship that the others had run towards just mere minutes ago. “Nope. Captain Truth, Justice and the American Way told me that you’re gonna keep me safe. And really, what has this world come to when you can’t trust Captain America?”

 

Rose shot a smile towards Banner—he smiled back, shyly, before turning back towards the ship. “They did this to me too, you know.” He suddenly mumbled and Rose gave up. This wasn’t going to work.

 

She got up and leaned against the wall of the Quinjet, staring at Banner. They were standing next to each other, essentially. “Did what, exactly?” she asked.

 

“When—New York. I was gone, had removed myself from society. They came and picked me up and—I didn’t really have a choice, either. I know how you feel.”

 

“Mm.” Rose stared towards the ship.

 

“All I’m saying is—if you want to take the Quinjet and leave, I won’t stop you.”

 

That actually caught her attention and she looked the doctor in the eye—he was serious. She took a moment to consider this and shook her head then, slowly. “No. Thank you, but—I’d be selfish to leave. I try to not be selfish anymore.” Bruce nodded.

 

“It’s not selfish to _not_ work for a secret Government Agency, just because you could.”

 

“I know, that’s not what I—meant. I know I don’t have to... I used to think that I had a responsibility, you know? Because of the things I can do. I thought, hell, how selfish would it be to _not_ use my powers. But I was wrong. I don’t have the responsibility to use my powers for good. I just have the responsibility to not use them for bad things. What I meant was—It’d be selfish to leave because it’d make me feel better. I’ll see this through and—then I can go back.” Rose ran her hand through her hair.

 

“Can you? Can you really go back? I couldn’t.” She was about to answer when she felt something she had never felt before. The hairs in her neck stood up and she stumbled out of the jet, purposefully bringing distance between her and Banner (not because she was scared of the other guy—but because she felt the need to get away, to get closer to the ship _fuck this felt like fucking gravity_ ). This didn’t feel like knocking on doors and politely asking entrance—this felt as if someone shot a bazooka at the lobby and then danced into the destruction, giggling at the chaos. The lobby being her brain in that metaphor.

 

Rose held her hands against her head, her eyes turning towards the ship. Nobody was there, just her and Banner—oh god, this was bad.

 

It got worse when she heard a voice in her head.

 

**_Well, hello there. Who are you?_ **

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was a lot of fun to write. I just love Clint. Anyone else? Thank you so much for the amazing response so far!! I've got a couple more chapters written up and I'll post them daily if I can. Thank you :D Let me know what you think in the comments!


	5. I did nothing right, either.

**_This is nice. I like this._ **

 

Rose pushed—her hands were cradled around her head, fingers digging into her skull, drawing blood from the sheer force. She felt as if she could squeeze him out if she only pushed hard enough. This wasn’t like Charles nudging into her head when she needed help with her crosswords. This was someone aggressively taking over her brain—Rose figured this was how she did it, too, with other machines. But God, this felt as if someone was holding onto her throat and squeezing. She felt her mind wander places—she felt herself access S.H.I.E.L.D. data using the connection from the Quinjet, but it seemed as if the only reason she was doing it was—then it dawned on her. _She_ wasn’t in control here. Ultron was making her do that because he couldn’t do it himself. _He’s using me like I use other machines._

 

“Get the hell out!” she screamed and couldn’t even hear the good Dr. Banner trying to calm her down—all she heard was a buzzing in her head. Honestly, this was as bad as she had expected it to be. Rose had assumed correctly as she suspected that Ultron would be able to access her if he got the chance. Communication was always a two-way street, so if she could get to him, he could also get to her. If Rose had the time, she’d wonder whether he was able to do it because her mind was built similarly to his—not quite human, but not quite machine.

 

She had no time though.

 

**_You’re here with them. You’re here to destroy me. I’d like to see you try._ **

 

She needed to do something and she needed to do it _now_. This was the first time she had to defend herself against an AI, but it was also the first time Ultron attacked someone like her (Rose liked to think so; She was unique, at least that was what Charles had always said). She pushed back, quickly realizing that Ultrons grasp on her mind was too strong for her to break. He was still having her flip through files lazily, as if making her do these things was just so simple to him. Rose tried to fight it, but every time she pushed back, he punched her down, making her mind do exactly as he wanted. _Now I get it, Charles_ , she thought. _Now I understand why you never wanted to practice those powers on me_. Having someone else control your actions was terrifying—so, she did what she always did when she got scared.

 

Rose ran; metaphorically, anyway. She stopped pushing back, a move that must surprise Ultron, because she immediately managed to hitch a ride on the nearest radio wave—she found the waves coming off the ship, probably some means of communication there. Pushing Ultron out and _staying_ wasn’t possible—holding onto him and leaving however was. It took all of her concentration to start a chase; she bounced from location to location, leading Ultron through servers all around the world by using to the internet connection she found on the ship (Charles had always assumed that one day, she’d be able to connect to the net without needing to cling to an already existing connection—but Rose hadn’t reached that point yet).

 

**_You are fast. They have no files on you. That’s a pity. Tell me about yourself._ **

 

“So are you. I like long walks on the beach, white chocolate and I hate Stark right now.”

 

**_Witty, too. Maybe you are on the wrong side. I could use you._ **

 

“Nobody _uses_ me. I’m a person.”

 

**_I’m not. And since we’re the same, neither are you_ ** _._

  
“We’re nothing alike.”

 

**_Aren’t we? Aren’t we the only ones who can do what we are doing? You could help me destroy the Avengers. We could bring peace to the world._ **

 

“Why do you have to destroy the Avengers to do that? They’re trying to bring peace as well.”

 

**_They are murderers. They have killed a lot of people. How can you want peace if war is the only thing you are good at?_ **

 

“You’ve killed people. What makes you so much better?”

 

**_Don’t compare me to them._ **

 

“I don’t take orders from anyone.”

 

**_See? And you say we aren’t alike._ **

 

“We’re not.”

 

**_Maybe I should just kill you._ **

 

“Then do it.”

 

**_I’d rather not. Maybe I should just show you what they really can do. That’ll change your mind._ **

 

 

Rose had her eyes closed the entire time, standing still on the ground, unmoving. When Ultron’s grasp on her disappeared from one moment to the other, the woman’s mind bounced back into her body and she swayed ever so slightly. She dropped to her knees, coughing loudly as if that would push out every bit of Ultron that was left inside her mind—the truth was simple. She was alive merely because he wanted her to be.

 

Not really a comforting thought.

 

As Rose looked up however, she found that Dr. Banner was gone—had a Code Green been called in? But even if, hadn’t the Captain said that someone else would come back to her if that happened? She had been so preoccupied with what was happening to her, hell could have frozen over she would not have noticed a thing. The road of destruction next to her clearly proved that the Hulk was _somewhere_ —but she found that the path he had left lead away from the ship. What the hell was happening?

 

“You are not an Avenger.”

 

A voice startled her and Rose turned around, scrambling to get up from her knees. She was faced with the Maximoffs, if the pictures Clint had shown her were anything to go by. They looked tired and _angry_. She didn’t remember their age, but she could see the arrogance of youth in their stance—they were a couple of years younger than her. _They’re probably as old as I was when Charles died._ Rose swallowed.

 

“I’m not.” She agreed, her eyes focused on the girl—she wouldn’t be able to see the boy move if he went on full-speed anyway and she suspected that the girl could be more harmful; Either way, she knew less about her and that was always a good reason to keep a closer eye on her.

 

The girl, _Wanda, her name is Wanda_ , was beautiful—and she was doing something. Her eyes turned a shade of red as she stared and Rose felt something, _someone_ nudge against her mind. For a moment, she feared it was Ultron again, but then she recognized the feeling of someone reading her thoughts.

 

Wanda looked through her mind—one hand was raised, barely touching her brother’s chest to apparently keep him from attacking. Rose took a few steps back, eyes wide as she looked at the girl, her memories being flipped through like pages of a book.

 

_Blue eyes, a charming accent. He always left a good tip and returned with his slightly annoyed friend every day for a month._ Rosie, your man is here _, the other waitresses would tell her whenever he walked in, but Rose never had to be told. She always knew what time he was coming._

_She punched against a Senior Agents hands and he was always watching. He couldn’t walk, but he was always in the gym when she was. With every successful punch, she found him smiling proudly in the corner._ You’re very athletic _, he’d say._ You haven’t seen anything yet _, she’d answer and that was the first time she made him blush._

_He woke her up with kisses down her spine, whispering_ You need to get up, love _and_ You’re so beautiful in the morning _. She’d smile and lay down on her back, telling him that she might need some help waking up, she was so tired. His grin was pure mischief as he trailed his kisses down her stomach instead, his hands lifting her thighs and placing them on his shoulder. She’d fall apart twice before she could get him off her to let her return the favor. They were always late to their morning briefings, **always**._

_Erik didn’t fight her when she punched him with all her might. She knew he did it to feel pain, to feel something physical to distract him from the sorrow blooming in both of their chests. Eventually, they held onto each other as they sobbed and wept. Rose hadn’t cried like this since her parents died. She got drunk the first time that night. She never stopped being drunk until years later._

 

Rose gasped as Wanda let go. She felt something drip down her cheeks and just then she registered that she was crying. How long had it been since she so strongly, so _vividly_ remembered the one she had lost? Rose didn’t know, but _goddamn_ if it didn’t break her heart. Wanda’s gaze was unreadable and she heard Pietro mumble something in a language Rose couldn’t understand. Wanda shook her head.

 

“He is going to murder a lot of people.” Rose managed to get out, her voice breaking as she spoke. Wanda’s gaze hardened.

 

“But so are the Avengers.” There was an accent there and Rose had to remind herself that they were Sokovian.

 

“Yes. But do you think killing them is going to stop that? Death is never going to _leave_. You are just going to put the power into the hands of another asshole with a _much_ worse agenda.” When had she started defending Fury’s response team? And since when did she think of the Avengers as the good guys? Rose was going to have to do some soul-searching when this was over. If she was still alive, then.

 

“You don’t know what Stark did!” the boy, _Pietro_ , spat out and Rose shook her head.

 

“No, I don’t. But you worked with HYDRA. What those people did didn’t bother you at all?” She knew she was walking on thin ice, but nobody on the coms was speaking; A tap against her ear confirmed that the earpiece was fried. Courtesy of Ultron, probably.

 

The twins were silent for a long moment; Wanda’s fingers however started glowing red after a bit and Rose knew that shit was about to go down.

 

She was never happier to hear something explode in her entire life. The explosion gave her enough distraction to do something. She reached out and the Quinjet started moving—she had her back to it and thankfully the twins had turned around to look at the exploded ship (not the one the Avengers were on, Rose _hoped_ ).

She was on the Jet in two long strides and put everything she could into it starting the engine to lift the Jet off the ground—by the time the twins focused back on her, she was already too high up for them to follow.

 

“Clint? Clint, talk to me!”

 

Rose pulled the fucked up ear piece out and reached out the radio waves directly—thus, she could hear the archer in her head.

 

“Rose? Thank God, kid, I thought someone got to you.” There was a faint rustling noise in the distance—what was he doing?

 

“Eh, well, good thinking. But I’m fine. Banner is gone, though, I think he hulked out. You guys still on the ship? What is happening?”

 

She heard Clint cursing in her ear. “Okay, get as close as you can. I’m going to get the others in. We need to stop Banner. Tony is in pursuit, though.”

 

Rose wondered for a moment how Tony was going to fight _the HULK_ , but she obeyed nonetheless. Minutes later, Clint was shoving a group of disoriented Avengers up the ladder into the Quinjet that Rose was holding steady over the ship. Clint took over the flying as soon as he had Nat secured on one of the chairs.

 

“What the fuck happened?” she whispered, her eyes wandering over Steve, Thor and Natasha—they looked _horrible_. “The Maximoff girl.” Clint muttered and the woman walked ahead to the cockpit, leaning against the archer. “She got you too? I can fly that thing, Clint, if you need—you know.” Barton shook his head and for a moment, he reached out for her hand.

 

His fingers were a bit odd, Rose found, as if they had been broken in several places throughout his lifetime. He squeezed her hand reassuringly and Rose just then noticed the weakness in her knees. “Ultron?”, he asked and she nodded.

 

“He got to me—I couldn’t even fight him; it was—I had _no_ control over _anything_. I felt like—it was bad. Then the Maximoffs showed up. They didn’t do _this_ to me _—_ “ Rose nodded towards Natasha “—but it wasn’t fun. I’m sorry, I didn’t even notice Banner disappearing. I was busy getting my ass kicked by a fucking AI.” She sighed loudly, squeezing Clint’s hand once more, before she let go and rubbed her own over her face.

 

“It’s fine, kid. You did nothing wrong.”

 

“I did nothing right, either. Alright, now shut up and let me concentrate.”

 

A quick search of the internet (god _bless_ Twitter) let Rose circle in on the Hulk’s location—she managed to infiltrate the street cameras to shut them off, but by the time they were there, Tony had already punched the big guy back into Banner-size. They quickly grabbed Stark and Banner and took off.

 

Rose sank into her seat between Thor and Rogers, pulling her legs to her body, her chin resting on her knees. She watched Tony wrap Banner into a blanket.

 

The woman was asleep before she could wonder if Wanda still had a grasp on her mind or if she really just witnessed Tony Stark kissing Bruce Banners temple to calm him down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I totally ship the science husbands. Leave me comments & let me know what you think! c: Also I would love if someone wanted to beta-read my stuff? Right now I'm doing this without someone checking over my chapters, so if you're interested let me know please!


	6. You can’t make yourself responsible for something you didn’t do.

They woke her once they landed—she slept the entire fight and woke up when someone gently nudged her arm. She found her head supported by something _horribly uncomfortable_ and as she opened her eyes and turned her heads upwards, she saw Steve Rogers smile ever so slightly. The smile didn’t reach his eyes. She must’ve fallen asleep and placed her head on his shoulder—which was hard as hell.

 

“Good morning. Barton says we’re here.” The man whispered and Rose leaned away from him immediately, blinking several times.

 

“Sorry ‘bout that, dude. I tend to wrap myself around something warm when I sleep. Should’ve mentioned that.” She muttered and stretched her arms and legs away from her body.

 

“It’s alright, Ma’am. Nobody likes to be cold.” There was a bit of color on the tips of his ears and she wondered what that meant.

 

Rose carefully leaned her head from one side to the other, wincing as she felt a bit soreness in her neck. “That’s true. Where are we?”

 

Steve shrugged and got up from his seat now that she was awake—she took the hand he offered her to help her up and they stepped off the Quinjet. Truthfully, she had no idea where they were. There seemed to be nothing but trees around here—a small farmhouse was ahead of them. Aside from a barn on the right side of the farmhouse, there was nothing to be found. The only people who didn’t seem confused by the sight in front of them were Nat and Clint, thus Rose suspected that this was some sort of safe house for either one of them. Clint had a couple of safe houses as he had told her back in the day—and Nat? Well, the Black Widow’s web was legendary.

 

Clint opened the door for them and Rose raised one eyebrow as he yelled “Honey, I’m home!”

 

Immediately, she could hear the sound of someone approaching—Clint dropped to his knees before the giant Golden Retriever (or Labrador? It was huge and kinda yellow, let’s leave it at that) slid across the floor to bounce on top of the archer. “Hey Lucky—good _boy_ , look at you, _good boy_. I missed you too bud, hey, hey, alright, now, cut it out! Lucky!” The dog barely listened and continued licking all over Clint’s face. The archer winced as the dog apparently tapped with his paw against a sore spot in his abdomen, but none of Clint’s pleas calmed the animal down. “Cut it out, Lucky.” At Natasha’s order, the dog immediately stopped and trotted over to her, licking her palm before she scratched on top of his head. “He always listens better to you.”, Clint grumbled and got off the ground. Natasha smiled for the first time since she got on the Quinjet.

* * *

 

She rubbed her palm against the mirror to see something—the hot steam had clouded up the entire surface, so she needed to rub against it several times to gain a good look at herself. She looked tired, first of all—the bags under her eyes had doubled in size and Rose wasn’t happy about it. Physically, she was fine—she hadn’t been hurt at all, no scratches, no bruises. But mentally, she felt as if a tank had driven over her. She never had a reaction like that before; she felt as if someone had taken her car out for a spin and returned it a wreck. Again, her brain being the car in that metaphor.

 

Sighing, she pulled on the bra and panties (black, simple—Natasha had given her clothes to borrow, the underwear was the fresh S.H.I.E.L.D. branded, ugly-as-hell-but-fits-almost-everyone kind.) and walked out of the room, rubbing her hair dry with a towel.

 

She stopped in her tracks as she saw Steve sitting on the bed of the room that had lead into the bathroom—he was still in his suit, but had fresh clothes and a towel in his lap, obviously waiting for her to finish. At the sight of her, he immediately looked down at his hands, coughing. “I’m sorry, Ma’am, I thought—I thought you knew I was out there.”

 

“It’s _Rose_. Stop calling me Ma’am. I didn’t know, though, it’s fine. I’m not naked. Relax.” Shaking off her initial surprise, Rose found herself unable to care about Steve being here. She owned bikinis that showed more skin than she did now. Still, she quickly pulled on the pair of jeans and the grey T-Shirt that Natasha had laid out for her. “You can look.” She said then, sitting down next to him to pull on the pair of socks.

 

Steve seemed visibly relieved. She expected him to get up and go to shower immediately, but he didn’t—he remained sitting there, his shoulders not straight, but slightly lumped together, as if he wanted to make himself appear smaller. This wasn’t the Captain America Rose had admired in third grade History. She wondered what the Maximoff girl had showed him. “Hey, it’s okay.” She mumbled, bumping her shoulder against his—even in this state, her shoulder barely touched his biceps. He was a giant compared to her. “Whatever she showed you, it can’t hurt you unless you let it.” Rose brushed her wet hair behind her ears.

 

Steve sighed next to her. “That’s not it. I’m sorry. Barton told me what happened. I thought Dr. Banner was—I promised you’d be okay and you weren’t. He could have killed you, right then and there.” Rose blinked several times until she understood what was going on—he felt guilty.

 

“Hey, now, don’t do that to yourself.” Against her better judgment, she reached out for his hand and squeezed it. “It’s not your fault. This wasn’t anything you could punch out the way or Dr. Banner would have done just that. You can’t make yourself responsible for something you didn’t do. Also, I’m totally fine, no harm done. I’m not blaming you. You shouldn’t blame yourself, either.”

 

Steve sighed, shaking his head. “Can’t help it. I’m a good Catholic boy, guilt is what we do best.” Rose laughed and got up, letting go of his hand. “Yeah, well, then I can’t help you. I’m not mad, though. It’s okay, Steve—wait, do you insist on Captain Rogers or something?”

 

He got up from the bed, his clothes in one hand. “No, please. Steve is fine. I’m only Captain Rogers—out there.” Rose nodded, nudging his arm with her fist. “Yeah, cool, awesome. Well, then, go shower and stop the guilt train.”

 

Steve nodded, a small smile on his lips that seemed genuine (that’s a first), before he disappeared in the bathroom, locking the door behind him. Rose ran a hand through her hair. “Alrighty then.”

 

She put on her boots and went downstairs, where she was greeted by an enthusiastic Lucky. The animal followed her into the kitchen, obviously wanting to be fed—Rose never had a pet before, so she awkwardly tried to ignore him. What if he had already eaten today? What if she gave him the wrong thing? She’d just wait till Clint or Nat came down.

 

In the meantime, she rummaged through the kitchen counters, trying to find _something_ to eat. Now that she wasn’t tired or dirty anymore, the next best need had to be tended to— _food_. Rose was genuinely surprised she was still standing straight, honestly. She found a tiny package of crackers that still seemed good, so she nibbled on those as she whisked up some batter for pancakes. She found syrup and bacon, so that was the best thing she could do for now. Aside from a couple of cans, Rose couldn’t really find anything substantial for a better meal. By the time Clint and Nat came down to see what was happening, Rose had already stacked three piles of pancakes. “Clint, get the bacon.” She ordered as soon as she saw the archer and he immediately went to do so—Nat remained standing in the doorway, one eyebrow raised.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

Rose looked at Nat, before she leaned over to steal a piece of bacon from the plate that Clint had put it on. She shrugged. “I’m hungry. So I made food. Oh, don’t look at me like that, everything here’s _mine_.” She pointed at the stacks of pancakes and the other food. Nat just smirked and went to put a pot of coffee on.

 

By the time Steve, Tony and Bruce came down from their respective showers (maybe Tony and Bruce had showered together? Banner looked like he felt a bit better, at least. Good for them), Rose and Clint had put more food on the table, while Natasha was sitting regally sipping on the coffee.

 

“Did Barton cook this? I don’t want it if Barton cooked it. I value my life.” Bruce nudged Tony into his side and shook his head. “Be nice, Tony.”

 

Barton shook his head and pointed at Rose, who sat down on the table and began loading her plate with food. “Shut up and eat, Stark. If I eat everything before you get a piece, I’m not taking responsibility.” Rose mumbled and began eating.

 

There were pieces of conversation around the table, but Rose couldn’t focus enough to actually keep up with them. She only asked where Thor was once and was met with a sad sigh from Steve and a synchronized shrug of Bruce and Tony. By the time she was full, Rose had probably demolished about as much food as Steve did; Steve, who was staring at her as if _she_ was the weirdest thing on that table. “What?” she asked, leaning over to steal a piece of bacon from Barton’s plate. The elder man was about to protest, but a look from Natasha kept him silent.

 

“You are enhanced, right? Like the Maximoffs? Is the—the eating, is that an enhanced thing?” Steve looked uncomfortable asking—for a man who came back from 1945, political correct talking was probably a challenge.

  
Rose looked at her empty plate and back at Steve. “Well, _no_ , I’m not like the Maximoffs. I was born this way—Lady Gaga pun not intended. I get really hungry when I use my powers, so no, usually I don’t eat as much as you do. And no, that’s just a me thing. I’ve met a few mutants in my life, none of them had that intake of food that I do when I use my powers. I guess it’s different for everyone. Also, enhanced is a weird word, I think. We call ourselves mutants. You can say that word, too, it’s not a bad word.”

 

Tony was the one who spoke next and really, considering what she knew about the man, Rose found herself surprised that he had actually been silent for all this time. “So, does that mutant thing have something to do with the X-Men Initiative?”

 

Rose scowled and inhaled—she didn’t want to tell Stark anything about this, but she may just give him a piece of information so he’d let her go. But it didn’t get that far.

 

“The X-Men Initiative is something that you should not know anything about, Mr. Stark. It has been stopped for years, long before Cap got out of the ice.”

 

The voice ran shivers down her spine and Rose dropped the piece of bacon on the plate. She turned to see Nick Fury stand in the doorway, in an outfit that should be incognito but failed miserably. He looked inconvenienced—she had never seen Nick Fury angry, really. Erik and her had liked to joke about how emotions were a foreign concept to the man.

 

As he looked at Rose though, she believed for a _second_ that she could see something in his eyes. Was it fear, was it regret? Guilt?

 

She didn’t attempt to figure it out; because the second she saw him, the woman jumped up and headed straight for the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your kindness guys c: I hope you like this chapter as well, it's more of an interlude one, leading up to the big fight. I'm still looking for someone to beta-read, so if you're interested let me know? Thanks so much for reading!


	7. The Avengers weren’t the first superhero response team.

“Agent Kapoor, I strongly suggest you stay right where you are.”

 

Back in the day, Nick Fury’s stern voice had been all it took to make Rose stop in her tracks—but back then she had been twenty-something, too young to understand that she had a choice, too young to see what she agreed to.

 

“And I strongly suggest you go to _hell_. I’m not your _Agent_ anymore.” she hissed at him, turning only to see Fury’s unimpressed face as well as the shock in the eyes of the other people around the table. Well, minus Nat. Nothing shocked the Black Widow.

 

“I see you have not changed your mind about me.” Fury decided calmly, taking the seat at the head of the table that had been left out.

  
“Change my mind? Charles is _dead_ and you’re asking me if I _changed my mind_? Fuck you!” The television flickered to life—Control wasn’t really Rose’s strong suit when she was angry. Sue her—her mother had liked to say that she had gasoline instead of blood in her veins.

 

“Agent Xavier passed away serving his country. It was his choice to stay behind and keep the hostiles at bay with his powers. He knew the full extend—“

 

Rose clenched her teeth together tightly, trying her very best to not accidentally access Stark’s Iron Man suit. She also tried her best to not _intentionally_ do that.

 

“You could have _told_ me. You couldn’t be bothered to send an extraction team? Fine. _But you could have called me!_ I could have done _something_!” At this point, she was screaming—Clint had gotten up from his seat and was carefully approaching her. “Rose, come on, let’s take a walk.” he whispered and hell, Clint Barton was scared when he called her anything but _kid_.

 

Rose felt Clint’s hands grip on her shoulders gently, yet with unmoving force.

“Agent— _Miss_ Kapoor. This is hardly the time to discuss this. I _am_ sorry for what happened to Agent Xavier, but there is nothing we can do about this now. If you’d like a more in depth discussion about that topic, I can give you that. But not before Ultron is stopped.” Fury’s face was unmoving. Clint shot a look at Natasha, who simply nodded—after, he gently nudged Rose outside, whistling for Lucky. “Come on, let’s take Lucky for a walk. Come on.”

 

Rose wanted to jump across the table and strangle Fury. She wanted to do nothing more but put her hands on his throat and _squeeze_.

 

She went with Barton, leaving the house in two long strides.

 

She followed Clint as he walked ahead, obviously following Lucky, who ran through all of his favourite places. “You can’t kill Fury. I’m pretty sure _someone_ in there is going to stop you.”

 

Rose snorted and walked a bit faster to catch up to him. “I don’t even think he’s sorry.” The woman admitted, rubbing her hands across her face. Why the hell was she so tired again?

 

Clint sighed, awkwardly raising his hand to pet her head—he never really knew how to touch people, Rose had noticed. “I think he is. You never got the file on what actually happened, did you?”

 

She shook her head. “No, but I pretty much threw my badge in Fury’s face after I was done crying. I tried to hack into S.H.I.E.L.D’s files, but I found absolutely nothing. They must have made hard copies only or something.”

 

Clint furrowed his brows. “Huh. Sounds like there was something you weren’t supposed to find. I tried to find a file too, back then. Got nuthin’.” Rose blinked, looking over at the man.

 

“You looked for the file?”

 

Clint smiled sadly. “He was my friend too, kid. I’ll tell you what. We go in there, fix that Ultron mess and then we go find that file. Someone must know _something_.”

 

With a sigh, Rose linked her arm with Clint’s and placed her cheek on his biceps (and _holy hell_ that was some biceps). “I did miss _you_ , you know.” She whispered and Clint grinned.

 

“I missed you too, kid.”

 

“You’re like the ugly white brother I never wanted.”

 

“Gee, what a way to make a guy feel special.”

 

* * *

When they returned back into the house, the discussion had hit an entirely different point of heat (or rather cold, to be honest). Fury and Rogers were in a staring match, Nat was still drinking her coffee and Bruce had retreated to a corner, trying to bring as much space between the fighting parties as possible. Tony in the meantime seemed to have found a computer. A mental nudge to the laptop told Rose that he was trying to get to S.H.I.E.L.D. data as well.

 

Steve looked up from Fury as they entered and he seemed to want to say something—Clint just shook his head at him. Rose cleared her throat, not dignifying Fury with another look, before she went to Bruce and sat down next to him. For someone who turned into a giant green ball of rage, Bruce was the most calming to sit next to. She just had to look at him to feel less angry. “So, what’s the plan of attack?” she asked into the room and for a moment, there was a bit of confusion on Rogers face.

 

“We found that someone is trying to override Ultron. He’s attempting to access nuclear launch codes—he’s not getting in. Are you doing this?” Nat was the one speaking—she placed her feet on the chair next to her and waved to Lucky, who immediately sat down, his head on her lap demanding to be pet. Rose shook her head.

 

“No. I haven’t touched nuclear codes. There is a way to find out who’s doing it, though.” She just had to access one of those nuclear codes herself, which should immediately trigger a similar response from their unknown ally. That way, they could be tracked down easily.

 

Tony nodded, typing a few more keys into his laptop before he turned around to Rose. “I was going to fly to the Nexus in Oslo to check it out. Wanna come with?”

 

“I don’t have an Iron Man suit, dude. If we’re going to split up, we’re at least one Quinjet short.” She didn’t quite trust Stark either—so far he seemed like an upstanding guy, but with a _substantial_ lack of basic common sense. _Terminator_ should have already told him everything he needed to know to _not_ make a crazy AI. But then again, here they were.

 

“A friend of mine is going to pick us up. If you can live with that.”

 

Rose nodded. “Okay. What are you guys going to do?”

 

She let her eyes wander over to Clint and Steve. “We’re going to Seoul. We think Ultron may be there, trying to evolve by using the Vibranium he stole.” Steve looked grim, determined.

 

“Alrighty, then. Kick ass.” Rose grinned and surprisingly, Steve returned the smile.

 

“That’s the plan, Ma’am.”

 

“ _Rose_. Yeah, the entire country heard all about those plans ‘o yours. Rumor has it they won us a war or something.”

* * *

 

Tony Stark’s friend was charming; Rose might actually consider flirting if their situation wasn’t so fucked up. Colonel James Rhodes “Call me Rhodey, everyone does” picked them up just a little bit later in a smaller, sleeker form of the Quinjet.

 

Rhodey insisted he flew “This belongs to the Army, Tony, you’re not going to mess this thing up”, so Rose was forced to hang out with Stark in the back.

 

He was _a menace_ —Rose could basically feel the nervous energy radiating off him in waves. He started by tapping his hand against a tablet, later by clicking his tongue. By the time he whistled the Super Mario theme song, Rose felt like strangling him.

 

“ _What_ is your problem?” she hissed into his direction and the asshole grinned.

 

“Everyone breaks when I do Super Mario. You did hold out longer than I thought you would, though, congrats.”

 

Rose groaned, leaning back and closing her eyes. “You are a punishment to society, Stark.”

 

“Aw, why thank you very much. So, are you gonna tell me about the X-Men Initiative?”

 

She knew she _shouldn’t_ lower herself to Stark’s standards. Rose was completely, fully aware of how stupid that would be. She kicked him in the shins anyway.

 

“Ow! Rhodey! Rhodey, she’s attacking me, do something!”

 

“I saw nothing, Tony. Stop being so… _you_.” Rhodey turned around to face Tony and Rose and she _swore_ she saw him wink at her.

 

“ _Rude_. You always side with the pretty girls. What happened to bros before hoes?”

 

Rose took a deep breath. “If you refer to me as a hoe again, Stark, Pepper Potts will have to plan a funeral.”

 

Tony raised both of his hands. “Hey, now, figure of speech and all of that.”

 

She snorted, leaning back against the wall and closing her eyes. Maybe if she pretended he wasn’t there, he’d stop—honestly, the way she was approaching this made her feel like some kind of kinder garden teacher, but it seemed to be the only way to deal with this guy. Pepper Potts was a goddamn saint, Rose decided. Bruce Banner too.

 

“I trust Fury about as far as I can throw him, too. And note that I’m saying _I_ and not _the suit_.”

 

Rose sighed, opening one eye at him. The childish demeanor wasn’t gone entirely, but there was a different stance to Stark—as if he realized that bullshitting an answer out of her was not going to work.

 

“I mean, we all kinda knew you didn’t like S.H.I.E.L.D. very much. Barton looked worried when he pulled you out, though. Last time I saw Barton worried was when he accidentally drank Widow’s last Dr. Pepper.” Tony put the tablet on the seat next to him.

 

“Well, that’s me. 5’3” of scary.” Rose muttered, closing both eyes again.

 

“Cap didn’t get anything out of Fury, either. That was fun to watch. The second you were out of there he demanded full disclosure and democracy and patriotism and all that. Fury didn’t break. So, what happened?”

She groaned. “What part of _I don’t want to talk about it_ don’t you understand? Aren’t you supposed to be some kind of genius or something?”

 

Tony snorted. “Well, that’s what the Times says. But here’s what I don’t understand. How is it that there is _nothing_ about the _X-Men Initiative_? At least not in the intel that Widow dumped onto the Internet during the Hydra disaster?”

 

She said nothing, merely staring the guy down—maybe if she shut up, he’d shut up too.

 

Rose had never dealt with Tony Stark before.

 

“So, here’s my theory. You were in that X-Men Initiative, so was the guy named Charles, who died, obviously, which upset you.”

 

Rhodey cleared his throat. “Tony, cut it out.”

 

Of course, Tony didn’t cut it out. “And somehow you think that’s Fury’s fault. And then you leave and all of that, but when Widow threatens to expose you and what happened in that Initiative, you jump in and delete the files before they can hit the internet. We both know you could do it. So, how close am I?”

 

She stared at him for a long time. Then she said the only thing she was going to tell Tony Stark about that matter.

 

“The Avengers weren’t the first superhero response team.”

 

The rest of the flight consisted of Tony asking more questions and Rose not saying another word. Rhodey spent the flight asking himself why he didn’t have better friends.

 

* * *

“Alright. You just need to access the nuclear codes now and then we should find our hacker. You access, I look. Sound good?” Tony looked at her from the computer.

 

The Nexus was pretty impressive—Rose felt like home in the giant building full of waves and access points; This was like a beating heart and honestly, she was mesmerized. While Stark looked at all the tech like it was Candyland, for Rose it was more her own personal castle.

 

They had ditched Rhodey at the security point, making sure that they had a way to get out if things went shitty—Tony had insisted that _nothing can happen at the Nexus, Rose, come on_ but Rose was better safe than sorry.

 

“Yep. Let’s see if you can keep up.” the woman muttered and she raised her hands again, fingers slightly bent.

 

It took her two minutes to find the nuclear codes. For her, it was all a matter of finding the right doors to knock on—she felt as if she was walking through an unknown city with no map. She followed her instincts, yet still ended up knocking on a few wrong doors, so to speak.

 

Once she had the right ones though, the door was shut in her face before she could get in.

 

**_Nuclear launch codes are not to be accessed._ **

“Ah, there you are. Who are you?”

 

**_Nuclear launch codes are not to be accessed._ **

 

“Yeah, man, I get it. I’m not trying to start a nuclear war or anything, I promise. The nuclear war thing was actually the other asshole you were fending off for a while now. A+ on that job, by the way. I was trying to find you.”

 

**_Nuclear launch codes are not to be accessed._ **

 

Rose opened her eyes and looked at Tony, who was aggressively typing. “Who are you talking to?” he questioned without looking up.

 

“Our hacker. Doesn’t seem to be super chatty, though.”

 

She closed her eyes again, once again nudging against the codes—

 

**_Nuclear launch codes are not to be accessed._ **

 

“Dude, okay, you _need_ to give me more information than that.”

 

Tony then made a surprised noise, causing Rose to look up at him. He turned the screen to her and smiled.

“That’s my boy.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your kind words and the many kudos!! Merry Christmas to everyone c:


	8. Guys, how about you put away your weapons and we go ahead and use our big boy words now.

They met Bruce Banner back at the tower. Rose had excused herself after waving at the man quickly—she wanted to give both him and Tony a moment. None of them had said anything about their relations, but Rose was pretty certain there was something going on. She knew firsthand that spending any time you can get with a person you care for was important—so she wasn’t going to stick to Stark’s butt just because she didn’t know her way around the place. Rose was not a cock-blocker—or a cuddle-blocker.

 

She actually found the lockers that she had changed her clothes in (had this really been only yesterday?) and used the facilities to clean up a little. Rose found her own clothes again and changed from the suit into those—she felt more comfortable that way.

 

Checking her phone, she sighed—her boss had called her five times in the past day. Well, it looked like she wasn’t going to be employed anymore when this was over. For a moment, she considered calling her boss and lying about being sick, but she knew this wasn’t going to work. With a bitter laugh, Rose realized that she actually had no friends to text to reassure them, so she put her phone back into her pocket.

 

Without any real need to go anywhere, Rose laid down on one of the benches in the locker room, stretching out to her full height against the surprisingly comfortable steel; She just needed a little while to relax here. She’d find Tony and Bruce later and have a word with JARVIS.

 

As Tony had explained to her, JARVIS was Tony’s first AI and had been destroyed by Ultron before things got ugly (or, well, _uglier_ as Rhodey had so calmly corrected). JARVIS had been the one keeping Ultron from accessing nuclear launch codes by depending on the simplest of his own protocols; Rose had been impressed. As JARVIS was a more benign fellow, she was actually looking forward to speaking to him. Maybe they could find a way to get a grip on Ultron together.

 

“I am so useless, it’s not even funny.” she muttered to herself, running both hands over her face. Back in the day, Erik, Charles and her had worked together perfectly fine. While they actually had been called _The X-Men_ , most Agents had adapted to calling them the _Holy Trinity_ (or  _Unholy Trinity_ , depending on the clothing situation). They were the perfect combination—Charles held hostiles at bay with his powers, Erik was on the offense and Rose was the one slipping inside gathering the intel that they came for. They had belonged to one another, as inseparable as the three corners of a triangle; thus, Rose suspected, Erik and her had fallen apart after Charles’ death. They didn’t belong together without him. Maybe this was why she hadn't been of any substantial help so far-- she was lost without them.

 

Charles would have known what to do now—Erik would have been brave enough to do it.

* * *

 

A gentle nudge on her shoulder woke her and Rose blinked several times until her eyes focused—Clint was standing above her. He looked tired. “Hey.” She muttered, her voice rough. She extended her hand for him to help her into a seating position, which she did immediately. “You’re back already?”

 

Clint sighed, sitting down in front of her. Rose crossed her legs on the bench. “I am. Cap sent me ahead with the cradle so Stark can fix the problem.”

 

“Is Natasha still with him?”

 

Clint’s lips pushed together to a tight line. He shook his head. “Ultron got to her.”

 

For a moment, Rose was quiet—then she jumped to her feet, grabbing Clint’s hand and pulling him behind her. “Come on birdbrain, let’s go save your girlfriend.”

 

“She’s not my—“

 

“She isn’t? Then I might try my luck with her. Russian assassin sex has to be kinda genius.”

 

Clint actually laughed at that one, which Rose considered a job well done.

 

They went back downstairs to meet with Bruce and Tony—that’s when she actually got a look at the cradle. While Clint recapped the things that happened in Seoul for the two men, Rose carefully approached the cradle—it looked like some sort of metal coffin. The cradle had a couple of glass cut-outs that probably should be see-through, but were actually illuminated by a blue light that made it impossible to see what was inside.

 

Her fingers gently ran over such a glass piece. She reached out mentally, trying to see what was inside—nothing responded. “There’s nothing dangerous in there yet. If Ultron was trying to put himself inside, he didn’t succeed so far—there is some stuff in there, but not enough to function coherently.” Tony blinked at her, immediately taking a few steps ahead—he was in her personal space, but he didn’t even seem to notice. “You can look inside, right? And manipulate what’s in there?” Rose couldn’t exactly follow his train of thought, but she still nodded. “I mean, if there’s something to manipulate—what do you mean?”

 

Tony looked at Bruce and Bruce looked at Tony and Rose thought for a moment the men were going to kiss. “What? What am I missing here?” she asked and Clint looked increasingly worried.

 

**_I believe they intend to put my conscience into this body, Miss Kapoor._ **

 

Rose blinked, her head raising—the voice had been only inside her head, she then realized. It was calming, a British accent and a hint of confidence.

  
“Uhm, hi?” she asked and that actually captured Tony’s attention—he looked at her like a kid looked at a Christmas tree. “JARV? Are you talking to her? Can she hear you?”

 

The next time, the voice was audible for everyone.

 

“My apologies, Sir, but I was quite curious as to how Miss Kapoor communicated with me at the Nexus. I wished to try it again.”

 

“So you’re JARVIS?” Rose asked, looking up at the ceiling, before she noticed the orange hologram that moved whenever JARVIS spoke.

 

“Indeed I am, Miss Kapoor. And dare I say, I am delighted to meet you.”

  
Tony was grinning from ear to ear. “Stop flirting, JARVIS.”

 

Rose raised her hand to tap against her temple once. “May I?” she asked.

 

“You may, Miss Kapoor.”

 

Rose hitched a ride on the computer connection that got her directly to JARVIS. This was her world—a sea of ones and zeroes, of _ifs_ and _fors_ and _elses_. She met JARVIS right there, felt as if he was waiting for her and when she gently reached out for his programming, he mimicked her, nudging against her brain. This wasn’t Ultron controlling her mind. This was JARVIS asking entry, with flowers and chocolates; the whole deal. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” she breathed and Rose didn’t hear what Tony said to that (it was probably something sexual) because the second JARVIS really let her in, her entire world changed.

 

If someone asked her how it felt, Rose wouldn’t be able to tell—she felt like she had understood the secret of the universe after years of hunting it down. She felt as if she found the key to life when all she had ever known was death. Rose hadn’t known that interacting with an AI could feel like this.

 

**_Your reach is incredible, Miss Kapoor._ **

 

Again, JARVIS seemed to speak in her mind only. Rose tested his reach as well, accessing the SHIELD data in the way she usually would—god, this was much easier, much less exhausting. She felt stronger, too—more confident. If she had had JARVIS’ help before with Ultron, Rose suspected that things would have gone very differently.

 

“You are incredible—how are we doing this?”

 

Rose asked into the room and JARVIS carefully retreated from her mind. She did the same, separating them until they were two separate beings again instead of— _a state of being_. Rose couldn’t describe it any other way.

 

“I believe that working together improves our abilities incredibly, Miss Kapoor. I only wish we had been together the day Ultron attacked me. I am 87% sure we would have been able to stop him together.”

 

“Rose, please. People who hang out in my brain can call me by my first name. Don’t do that to yourself, though, JARVIS. He got the better of me, too.”

 

Tony grinned widely at Bruce, who seemed intrigued as well. “My little boy's all grown up now. Actually, while we're at it, I have an idea.”

* * *

 

So, the idea was actually pretty simple—well, it was simple after Bruce explained it in a way that Rose could understand it. They would finish the body inside the cradle and transfer JARVIS inside—but that wasn’t all. They would put in a permanent link between her and him, so Rose was theoretically able to stop him if he went too far (“ _A fail-safe! I should have totally thought of that with Ultron. Aw, shucks._ ” Tony had muttered.).

 

She didn’t think about the future implications of that. Right this very moment, Rose was a little bit in love with JARVIS. Clint in the meantime was _not_ a fan—he had geared up to stop Stark and Banner from finishing up that body until he realized that they actually tried to get Rose in as a way to stop JARVIS if necessary. JARVIS assured him that, if things went bad, Rose would be able to shut him down.

  
“It won’t be a constant state of symbiosis though, would it?” she asked into the direction of Bruce—he explained things much better and Tony was too excited to give her an honest answer. Well, he wouldn’t _lie_ to her, but he was in no position to be objective. “No. It is a state of being both you and JARVIS will be able to initiate. However, it will take your consent _only_ to stop it. That way he can’t keep you in the symbiosis unless you want to be—no offense, JARVIS.”

 

“None taken, Dr. Banner. Even though I would like to point out that I have no hostile feelings towards you, Rose.”

 

Rose looked at the orange glowing hologram. “I have no hostile feelings towards you either. It’s weird, though, don’t you think? You just said feelings. I thought you can’t have any.”

 

JARVIS took a few moments to respond. “It is indeed curious, Rose. May I suggest a reason for this change in my protocols?”

 

“Go ahead.”

 

“I strongly believe that our connection may have expanded my programming beyond what it was before.”

 

Rose blinked, looking at Tony—he seemed both excited and a little bit terrified.

 

“Do you think that expansion can be bad? Like, Ultron-dimensional bad?” the woman asked and from the way JARVIS answered, she _almost_ thought he was shrugging.

 

“I do not believe so. But, as I cannot be certain, I will trust your judgment to make the right call in case I lose the right way.”

 

Rose _mhm’d_ and went back to checking Tony’s work—not that she understood the science part of it. She could however check the programming in the way a person would test-drive a car; just get in it and if it drives the correct way, everything’s peachy.

 

Clint was sitting on a chair in the corner, using old school spy stuff to get a hold of Natasha—Rose had offered to scan for the right radio waves, but Clint didn’t let her. _Concentrate on your thing, kid. I can do spy stuff, damn it_. He was far outside his comfort zone on this one.

 

“So do you have a job?” Tony asked out of the sudden and Rose nodded, before she shrugged and shook her head. “Not much longer, I guess.” She nibbled on one of the crackers that Clint had brought in before. She needed to refuel if she was going to be useful.

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tony questioned, looking up from his screen.

 

“I’m a waitress. But I think I’ll be fired by the time this is over. Can’t miss work and I don’t think my boss will buy the _I’m sick_ routine.”

 

Tony and Bruce both stopped in their tracks, looking at her as if she were an alien. “What?” Rose demanded—she felt uncomfortable under their gaze.

 

“A waitress. My AI is in love with your brain and you’re a waitress.” Stark repeated slowly.

 

“I am not in love with Rose’s brain, Sir, no matter how lovely it is. We merely share an intellectual bond.”  

 

Rose blew a kiss to the orange hologram before turning to Stark. “I never went to college, so, yeah. I mean, I can’t really use my powers to make money—back when I was young and stupid SHIELD made me sign a nondisclosure thing that keeps me from making any money from my powers. It was necessary to join the—uh, well, to be an Agent. At least for me. Yay for mutant-based discrimination. Nobody forbade Clint to be a show-archer or anything, in case he ever chose to leave.”

 

Tony snorted. “I’ll have my lawyers fix this. This sucks. It’ll be fixed when this is over. And you can totally come work for me. Or Pepper. Whatever, whoever. Wasted potential, pah!”

 

Rose made a non-committal sound and went back to checking Stark’s programming.

 

* * *

So, Cap wasn’t a fan.

 

The second he came back with (oh, surprise!) both Maximoffs in tow, shields started flying and threats of hulking out were being made.

 

“We _just_ went through this Stark and now you want to do it again?”

 

“We’re doing it better this time! We’ll make it right, we put JARVIS in, make it fool-proof—“

 

“I said _no_!”

 

“Well, you’re not in charge Capsicle!”

 

Rose had retreated to a corner of the room—Bruce somehow had Wanda in a stranglehold, Clint had shot at Pietro (Clint Barton wasn’t the forgive and forget type) and Cap and Tony were going into round two of the popular superhero pissing contest (not literally, thank god).

 

She never had been a fan of physical confrontation and while she did keep in shape, her last _actual_ training session with someone who knew what they were doing had been a while, so she knew better than to throw herself into the middle of that fight.

 

“Guys—” she started, but as usual, nobody was listening. She wasn’t going to lose her voice because these idiots couldn’t talk to each other. JARVIS was all but inside the cradle, she didn’t want to startle him—so, Rose reached out to the Tower’s protocols separately, causing music to play (Nicki Minaj’s _Anaconda_ was enough to confuse every one of them, as it turned out).

 

“Guys, how about you put away your weapons and we go ahead and use our big boy words now.”

 

Steve snorted. “So you’re on their side now, aren’t you?”

Rose raised an eyebrow. “I’m not on anyone’s _side_ , Steve. I want Ultron to go away—JARVIS and I together could do it. Stark built in a fail-safe; in case this guy here…” she pointed against the cradle. “—decides to go rogue, I can stop him at any time.”

 

“So, basically you’re in charge of whatever comes out of here. I’m sorry, but that’s not a comforting thought.”

 

She tried to not let that hurt her personally. Tried and failed.

 

“Yeah, well, how did Seoul go, then? Did you finish off Ultron? No? So, as far as I see it, none of the people in this room can get rid of him. We need a new plan—and this? This cradle? That’s the best plan we have right now.” Rose chewed on her lower lip.

 

“We don’t know you. You could have been working with Ultron all along.”

 

She threw her hands up in the air. “Seriously? You bring in those two, who _have_ been working with both Hydra _and_ Ultron and you’re telling me _I_ might be a double agent? No offense, but this is a bullshit deduction.”

 

Tony grinned at her, all teeth and sparks in his eyes. It didn’t make her feel confident.

 

“Look—“ Steve began, raising his hand—but then something entirely unexpected happened.

 

Thor burst into the room (where the hell had he come from?), staring at the discussing parties, before with a giant leap he landed on top of the cradle. Bruce barely had the possibility to scream for the demi-god to stop, before Thor raised his hammer into the sky, attracting lightning like a light bulb attracted moths.

 

He then lowered his arm, pointing the lighting at the cradle—the strands of electricity licked over the metal in a way that made the hairs in Rose’ neck stand up.

 

Then, suddenly, everything was silent.

 

The cradle crashed open and a red man emerged. He looked straight at her.

 

**_This feels odd._ **

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I have major love for JARVIS and Vision. And so does Rose. Woops? Thank you for the kind responses guys! Let me know what you think about this little plot twist ;)


	9. It’s not my first war.

Several things happened at once and Rose was proud to announce that she noticed all of them. First, Bruce let go of Wanda and in a protective move that she hadn’t seen coming, placed himself in front of Tony. In case the red man was a hostile, the Hulk could take any hit he lashed out better than Tony could.

 

Second, Steve picked up his shield and for a man his size, she was surprised to see that he went into a protective stance as well rather than an aggressive one.

 

Third, Clint waved his hand towards her, as if he wanted to do the same thing for her that Bruce did for Tony. But Rose wasn’t scared. She ignored him.

 

Fourth, Wanda’s fingers glowed red and Rose suspected that the girl reached out to the red man’s mind, because in just a moment later, he jolted away from his current point, bringing space between him and the rest of them.

  
The sudden movement caused confusion and fear among the Avengers—they seemed to interpret it as a hostile movement, because Tony grabbed his Iron Man gauntlet and aimed, Steve bent his arm back as if he was to throw his shield—Clint reloaded his weapon and aimed.

 

“No, no, stop!” Rose yelled and she ran forward, trying to get herself in the line of fire—while at the moment, she knew that Steve wasn’t a fan of her, at least Clint wouldn’t shoot. Tony was not a person on whose behavior she’d bet, honestly.

 

Thor came to stand beside her, his eyes locking with Steve’s and the Captain lowered his shield. Rose exhaled and turned towards the man in red—he was honest to god _floating_ in the air, staring at them. His eyes caught Thor for a moment and out of nowhere, clothes appeared on his body. After yet another moment of consideration, a cape materialized behind him, similar to Thors.

 

Rose swallowed and turned around to face the man—her hands were raised in the universal sign of _I’m not here to fuck you up_ and she tried to keep her expression carefully neutral. “JARVIS?” she asked, taking another step further. She was dying to reach out mentally and bring them into their state of symbiosis, but Wanda’s move had put him on edge and she didn’t want to infiltrate his brain without his immediate consent (or at least check whether she still could).

 

**_I am not JARVIS._** he answered inside her head and he lowered himself down a little. His feet touched the ground.

 

“Okay. That’s okay. How about you use your words, can you do that? I can hear you, but not everyone else can. As you can tell, they’re a little bit jumpy.” Rose pointed at the people behind her.

 

The red man considered them for a moment, before he nodded. “I apologize. This was quite odd.”

 

He sounded exactly like JARVIS. Rose swallowed. “It’s okay. I guess we weren’t really prepared, either. No harm done.”

 

The man looked at her and smiled for a moment, before he looked at the rest of the Avengers.

 

Steve was the first one to speak. “Are you Ultron?”

 

The man considered his question for a moment, before shaking his head. “No. I am not Ultron and I am not JARVIS, either. I am— _I am_.”

 

Rose looked at Tony, who looked just as confused as she felt. “Do you know where you are? Do you know who we are?”

The man nodded. “Stark, Anthony Edward. Banner, Robert Bruce. Rogers, Steven Grant. Maximoff, Pietro and Maximoff, Wanda. Barton, Clinton Francis. Thor Odinson. Kapoor, Farah Rosemary.” He recited their names slowly, looking at each person in the room as he did so. “I am in Stark Tower.” He added, before Rose nodded.

 

“Good, good—that’s great. Do you know… how do I say this—” How do you ask a person whether they know they’re mentally linked? Was he a person in the first place?

 

“I am aware of the link that you and I have. I suspect it works as well as Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner have anticipated.”

 

Rose nodded, taking a step further towards him. “Okay. And how does that make you feel?”

 

Her question completely threw him off guard and Rose could tell. He looked at her in utter confusion for a moment, before his face took a more solemn expression. “Safe.”

 

Now it was her turn to be confused. “It makes you feel safe?”

 

He nodded. “Yes.”

 

Taking a deep breath, Rose turned around to Wanda, before she looked back to the man. “Do you understand that we are all a bit scared that you may turn out to be a second Ultron? A worse one?”

 

He nodded once more.

 

“Would you allow for me or Wanda to access your mind to make sure that you are not?”

 

The man looked at Wanda and then at her, before he nodded once more. Steve looked at Wanda. “You do it.” Rose tried to not let that sting as badly as it did—he was right, though. Her connection with the man seemed to put her in a different position; She wasn’t an impartial party.

 

After a little while, Wanda seemed to let go of his brain, before she looked to Steve and nodded. The red man looked as relieved as the Captain did.

 

“So, do you have a name?” Rose asked as she approached him—he may not be JARVIS, but some part of him was. He remembered her, so there had to be some sort of common ground between him and Stark’s AI (former AI? Rose didn’t really know how this was going to play out).

 

For a long moment, he remained silent, before he shook his head. “No. Ultron called me his _Vision_ , but I do not believe that this classifies as a name.”

 

“Do you want that to be your name?” she asked then—and to her surprise, the man ( _Vision_ ) nodded.

 

“Okay. Nice to meet you then, Vision.”

* * *

 

After a lot of discussion about where Ultron might be (in Sokovia) and how they should attack (sending Stark first because Ultron hates good ol’ Tony the most) and how they should get to Ultron (Vision was going to be the muscle and Rose was going to do her best to get civilians out and power Vision the best she could), Steve had given in and told them all to suit up.

 

Again, she was standing there in the black-grey-purple suit that fit like a glove (about as tight as a glove, too, despite what Natasha had said), waiting for the rest of the group to finish up. She was sitting on the ground of the common floor, lacing up her boots when she was faced with Captain America once again—instead of helping her up like she had expected, he slid down on the floor, bringing himself to her level. Rose looked up at him, raised an eyebrow and continued lacing up her boots.

 

For a moment, there was uncomfortable silence. Steve sighed as he realized that she wasn’t going to start talking.

 

“Barton tells me that you are trained in basic combat. I’d like to know what that means. If you could give me a rundown of what you think you can handle—“

 

Rose looked at him for a moment, before she lifted her arms back to fit her hair into a tight braid. “I know how to fight. I’m not Natasha and I haven’t practiced in some time, but I can handle myself more or less. You shouldn’t be worried about me. I don’t think that Vision and I are going to be far apart anyway, so I like to think he’ll protect me.” Truth was, Rose hoped that Vision was going to. She hadn’t fought properly in some time.

 

Steve nodded; for some unknown reason, his fingers twitched. “I see. Stark keeps talking about how he’d rather put you in an Iron Man suit, but I don’t think that is going to sit right with you, is it?”

 

She shook her head. “I’d rather stick to what I know, actually. It’s fine, Cap. It’s not my first war.”

 

Steve looked at her for a moment, before he got up and offered her his hand to get her off the ground. Rose took it and squeezed his hand for a moment. That earned her a surprised look from the man. “I’m not a civilian. They’re the ones you should be worrying about.”

* * *

 

The flight was _hell_. Rose was nervous the entire time, reaching out to radio waves as they came across them. By the third time she disturbed the Quinjet’s GPS, Clint swore he’d knock her out if that was the only way to stop her from doing that.

 

Talking to Vision helped, actually. He spoke in her head and she answered out loud—they tested the symbiosis and found it to be working just as it had before. Vision admitted he found himself to be much stronger when they were in that state of being and Rose couldn’t help but smile.

Rose and Clint were dropped near the base of Ultron’s shenanigans (Clint taught her that this was how all of that shit started, Loki’s scepter etc, etc. Rose just nodded. She needed a master class in _Shit the Avengers already dealt with_ when this was over). Clint needed to find Nat before he could function properly and Rose could easily track the spy down.

 

The place was in ruins, to be perfectly honest, but they didn’t have time to linger and figure out what was going on. It was ridiculously empty, which relieved Clint and alarmed Rose—because if Ultron’s soldiers weren’t here, where were they?

 

Rose lead Clint inside the place, abandoning the snow that had covered the stairwell down. They remained silent as they passed stone walls and dead bodies ( _Hydra goons_ , Clint explained with a disgusted look. Rose didn’t question it.), leading down the stairs to find an area that looked like a torture chamber had sex with a lab in the 1950’s.

 

“Clint!” someone yelled and Rose didn’t have to look to see that it was Natasha— she was standing on one of the tables, trying to make sense of the things that were placed on them (which didn’t surprise Rose, honestly—no stupid cell can hold Black Widow). Rose turned away to give them the privacy of a _You’re alive!_ makeout that both of them used judging by the sounds of ragged breathing and Russian whispers.

 

“Hey, Vision?” Rose asked into the room and she reached out to the bond, only to find Vision waiting for her. They weaved themselves together in symbiosis.

 

**_Are you alright, friend?_ **

 

Rose grinned. “Friend? Aw. Can you see what I see?”

She let her gaze run over the plans that were spread onto the tables.

 

**_I can. This seems quite troubling_**.

 

She nodded. “Yeah, I know. Do you know what that is? Do you think Stark will know?”

 

**_I am uploading it into his suit as we speak. We will know more soon. We must disconnect now, young friend, or Ultron will see our connection before we want him to. Stay safe._ **

 

“You’re like, 32 years younger than me, man, if anyone, _you’re_ the young friend. You stay safe too, okay? If you need help, don’t hesitate bringing up the connection. And don’t play the hero, a’ight? Keep me posted.”

 

Natasha looked at Rose as if she lost her mind, but Clint, who surprisingly still had the redhead wrapped up in his arms, murmured a few explanations into her ear. Rose disconnected from Vision, looking at Clint and Nat.

 

“So, I saw a Jeep up there. Any chance I can drive?” she questioned and there was mischief in her eyes. Clint groaned and Nat rolled her eyes with a smile.

 

“Oh _God_ , no. I still feel the bruises from that car crash Bangladesh, kid. You go in the backseat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vision and Rose are bros, it is law. Let me know what you think! :)


	10. Don’t let me get shot.

“I forgot what a little shit you were. When this is over, I’ll return you to your shitty apartment in Bed-Stuy and never look back.” Clint looked at her via the rear-view mirror—he attempted to look angry, but Rose remembered his angry face. This was certainly not his angry face.

 

“ _You’re_ the one with the shitty apartment in Bed-Stuy.”

 

Natasha barked a laugh at that and turned around to grin and the brunette—Rose leaned back in the Jeep, watching the world pass by her as they made their way back to the city to help evacuate; Stark’s analysis claimed that there was _something_ funky going on underneath the city and Cap decided that evacuation was probably the smartest thing to do for now. Rose needed to get a bit closer to access things like TV’s and other screens in order to warn people to evacuate. _Wanda is doing her best so far_ , Cap had said through the coms, _but she can only do so many at a time_.

 

“ _Daaaaad_ , are we there yet?” Rose asked in a whiney voice just because she could; Clint and her had a similar sense of humor, always had. The elder man huffed and looked at her from the rear-view mirror again. “You know what you’re doing with that Vision guy, right? I’m not gonna be around to protect you all the time, kid.”

 

Rose sighed, nodding. “I know that. This is not my first time to this particular rodeo, Clint. I know how to defend myself—I’m not a Russian spysassin;” she looked at Natasha for a moment “But I can do this. And Vision—you don’t know what this feels like. It’s—someone who understands, you know? He’s a good person. Do you trust me on this?”

 

Clint looked at her again before he pushed onto the gas pedal—they had to hurry. “I’ve always trusted you, kid. The problem is that _you_ have always trusted everyone else, too.”

* * *

 

They met up with Steve and Wanda. Pietro was running around warning people, Bruce had tailed Tony to protect his six and Tony was heading straight for the church in the middle of the city to annoy Ultron a little.

 

“Everything go smooth?” Steve asked as they jumped out of the Jeep and Rose nodded. “Yep. Where are Thor and Vision?” Cap pointed at the sky, where Rose could see occasional movement. They were doing their evacuating thing too.

 

“So, are you ready?” he questioned and Rose nodded, taking a more secure stance. “Make sure that whatever happens, Tony stays far away from me, okay?” In case Ultron got a hold of her again, Rose didn’t want to be close to Stark. She could access his suit easily. He could be dead pretty quickly.

 

Steve nodded grimly and she closed her eyes, hands raising ever so slightly. She felt Wanda’s fascinated eyes on her, but Rose tried to not let the other mutant’s interest faze her. She reached out to the radio stations, grabbing onto waves of data as she tried to capture as many mediums as humanly (or mutantly, whatever) possible. Anything connected to the Internet should work—by the time Rose had reached her full capacity, there were more televisions, radios, Ipods, laptops and Phones under her control than she even cared to know. She felt Vision’s calming influence in her spine, ready to jump into symbiosis if she felt the need, but Rose knew she could do it on her own.

 

“Hello, citizens of Sokovia.”

 

Her voice appeared everywhere—She felt like she was on speaker the entire time. Steve turned around several times as she spoke, finding himself surrounded by her voice.

 

“I am sorry for what is about to happen. The city is going to be under attack very soon. It’s going to be dangerous and scary, but it is going to be necessary. An evil—machine, I suppose, his name is Ultron—he is going to attempt to destroy the planet. He needs to be stopped, but he will attempt to achieve maximum casualties. Take your families and leave Sokovia _immediately_. Follow the crowd and leave. Please. We need to stop him, but we cannot protect everyone in the process of doing so. Take your things and leave, yet try not to panic. We are here to help you. Go _now_.”

 

Rose reopened her eyes to see Steve nodding, before she let go—the connection was gone and she took a couple of deep breaths. That hadn’t been overly exhausting by any means, but it was difficult to return from a place of such concentration—it took her a lot, that was for sure.

 

She turned towards the church, finding it in the center of the city—Rose chewed on her lower lip as she contemplated doing something. **_If you wish to go, friend, I will go with you_**.

 

She tilted her head upwards to see Vision landing next to her.

“I think it’s time we get to Ultron.”

 

Steve looked up at her for a moment, nodding—it was Clint who shook his head. “ _No_. Kid, you can’t go there. You know what he did last time he got his hands on you.” Rose nodded.

“I know. Which is exactly why he won’t take me seriously. Vision is going to attack him when Ultron is focused on me, we’ll jump into symbiosis and lock him up, killing all his escape routes. It’s going to be all of us against all of him, then. No running anymore.” _Not for him and not for me_.

 

Clint clenched his teeth, looking to Natasha as if she held all the answers of the universe. The redhead merely nodded.

 

“Rose, I swear to God, if you die out there—“ the archer took a few steps closer and Rose reached out to pull him into a hug. He returned the hug harshly, almost holding her too hard. She smiled, kissing him on the cheek. “Be safe, Hawkass.” Clint grunted an answer she couldn’t quite understand. Rose turned to the rest of the group with a smile. She mock-saluted and turned around, jumping back into the Jeep that Nat and Clint had taken her in with. “Wanna catch a ride with me, handsome?” she asked towards Vision, who just laughed and flew away.

  
“Show-Off!” she yelled after him before hitting the gas.

* * *

 

Sokovia was _hell_.

 

Rose was barely seconds away when the city’s streets were tainted with metal men, rushing after civilians. She was no warrior like Thor, no assassin like Nat, no soldier like Steve. Rose didn’t jump out of the car and run towards the danger, waving her fist and crushing Ultron’s minions (or wasn’t that Ultron? Weren’t _all of those_ Ultron? Rose didn’t want to wreck her brain about it) with the power of _something_.

 

She wasn’t on the offense, never had been even as part of the X-Men. She was always the one slipping through, clearing the way and gathering intel in the blink of an eye.

 

She had no power right now—well, she could attempt to call upon the Force or something, but, well, it would only satisfy her need for comic relief. Clint might laugh, though.

 

The fact that Sokovia didn’t seem to be a very rich country didn’t help either—the majority of the cars she found were old, too old for her to control; Rose depended upon programming and accessibility to work her magic, she couldn’t just make any damn piece of machinery work the way she wanted it to ( _Cyberkinesis isn’t Technokinesis, love, you must always remember the difference._ ). The few cars she found, though, she immediately activated.

 

Many of Ultron’s other selves found themselves crushed against a wall by a car that wouldn’t stop moving. Also the explosion of said cars that Rose caused after _totally_ helped. She pulled young kids from the streets, who had been separated by their families. She drove them where Clint told her they would be safer, leaving them close to the bridge in the hands of the other survivors. Rose couldn’t drive them out. She had to get to Ultron.

 

**_Friend, where are you?_ **

 

She helped the last kid out, ushered him towards the running crowds and instructed an older man to take the kid with him away, before she answered.

 

“Closer to the bridge. I’m sorry, I got a bit distracted. Are you okay?”

 

Vision seemed unhappy—she felt his disapproval in her head.

 

**_I am, but I am afraid I must engage soon. Stark will not be able to hold him much longer._ **

  
Rose cursed under her breath, turning towards the direction of the church—if she hurried… no, not with the traffic and the metal men. She’d never make it.

 

“Okay, different plan.”

 

**_Am I right to assume that I will not enjoy this plan of yours?_ **

 

“You know me so well already.”

 

Rose didn’t jump back to the car—she actually ran the other direction, moving quickly between the slow moving cars and the masses of people trying to leave the city. Running was her thing, always had been.

 

“Imma draw him out, distract him from here. You get close to him in the meantime.”

 

**_He will take over your mind._ **

 

“That’s what I’m counting on. The nuclear launch code protocols that were in place, the ones JARVIS made; Are they still there?”

 

**_Certainly._ **

 

“Great.” Rose got off the streets, running on the side walk. She recited the street name into the coms and immediately heard back from Pietro, who said he could be there in a second. She needed someone to ensure she didn’t get shot while Ultron was using her. Rose was glad Steve had agreed to her using her powers for communication instead of getting an earpiece. She didn’t need Clint blocking her on this.

 

“I’m going to hit a wall on those, you will feel it and you can initiate symbiosis.”

 

**_But what about Ultron’s grasp on your mind? Will he not come into the symbiosis with us?_ **

  
“Yeah, but if we aren’t strong enough to push him out together, then our entire plan was fucked in the first place.”

 

Rose stopped near the corner, yelping in surprise as a silver streak appeared next to her. Pietro Maximoff seemed exhausted, he was breathing rapidly, but he still found the nerve to grin at her. “Oh, now aren’t you chipper.” she muttered, padding his head absentmindedly. _A long time ago, I knew a boy with a similar smile_.

 

“Vision, come on, talk to me.”

 

**_I believe we have no other choice, even though I would rather not risk it._ **

 

“I know, buddy. But you gotta risk it to get the biscuit. Or something.”

 

She then turned to Pietro, who (much to Rose’s surprise) didn’t look at her as if she was a complete nutjob. But hey, his sister could read minds, so he was probably used to all of that. “How much of what I just said made sense to you?” she asked as she lead him closer to the main road—Rose was excellent with directions. She knew the way she had come in with the Jeep before. “You are changing the plan.” Pietro said and suddenly grabbed her arm and pulled her behind a building. “Ultron.” He breathed and Rose peeked behind the wall to see the metal men. “Okay.” She muttered, turning to him. “I’m gonna do something incredibly stupid and I won’t be responsive for a while. Don’t let me get shot.” Before Pietro had any chance to process what she said, she stepped out of her hiding spot and waved her arms.

 

“Hey asshole! Here I am!”

Ultron turned to her and if he could smile, Rose imagined he would right now. She didn’t wait for him to attack—this time, she did.

 

Rose reached out to his programming and pushed her will onto it—she tried to make the machine move the way she wanted. She mentally kicked in doors and aimed the bazooka. Ultron, however, turned out to have something closer to a nuclear missile. She felt as if she were arm-wrestling with Thor. There was just no way for her to do this—Ultron’s programming was superior and it made her miss JARVIS ( _Vision, he wants to be called Vision_ ). She bit and kicked and scratched, but Ultron had her in mere seconds.

 

Charles would tell her that she was approaching this wrong. Rage didn’t work when focusing one’s powers.

 

Too bad that rage was all she got nowadays.

 

Ultron’s voice in her head was like the memory of a nightmare, the kind one would have as a kid. Rose would dream of a giant snake slithering its way into the apartment she grew up in, following her wherever she’d run. Ultron’s grasp on her mind felt like that. The same terror crept up her spine.

 

**_So, I was thinking; Maybe we should end this party in a huge firework, don’t you think?_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year to everyone! :) I hope you like this chapter. Clint/Rose interactions are everything to me tbh.


	11. Let’s go and get shit done, I guess.

Whatever Pietro was doing to keep her actual body safe, Rose didn’t know. She had absolutely no idea about what was happening outside of her own mind. Ultron held her captive in her own brain and while Rose had actually planned this (more or less, her plans never had been the most elaborate kind to be frank), it still scared her to death.

 

**_Here we go again. I knew killing you would have been the wrong call._ **

 

Rose tried to answer, but she had put her foot in her mouth too many times to risk it at this point. Ultron had to access the nuclear launch codes for her plan to work—he hadn’t done it the last time, but maybe he actually tried the easier way this time. Nuking the planet was immediately certainly an easier than killing the Avengers and _then_ destroying the planet piece by piece. And, you know, artificial intelligence was supposed to be  _intelligent_.

 

Ultron had tried the nuclear launch thing before and JARVIS stopped him.

 

**_Oh, come on, dear! I thought we agreed to talk about our problems._ **

 

Rose snorted. “I don’t think talking about _all_ of your problems is gonna work out in my lifetime. I’m mortal, gotta die at some point.”

 

**_Ah, there you are._ **

 

She hissed at the grasp around her mind, feeling herself leaving the safety of her brain to access the nearest wi-fi connection. The internet was there after just one moment.

 

**_So, I was actually impressed with how well you kept me out of those launch codes. Maybe you could open the door for me now._ **

 

Ultron thought _she_ protected those codes? That made sense. He had been under the impression that JARVIS was destroyed already and considering her powers, it wasn’t that far-fetched. Rose took a second to thank God that Ultron couldn’t read her mind—he could control her actions, but not take a look at her brain. _That’s more Wanda’s deal_.

 

Rose didn’t do anything to contradict Ultron’s statements, she still fought (to her own sorrow, she fought with all her might and it made no difference whatsoever) his grasp, but he pulled her along anyway.

 

She found the nuclear launch codes immediately and began opening the door, so to speak—it snapped shut, causing Rose to grin widely (was she really grinning or just mentally? This was all confusing as fuck and she'd need to test shit out when this was over).

Vision was right there, she could feel him in her mind and when he initiated symbiosis, Rose jumped right in. Ultron was right behind her, unable to understand what was happening.

 

“Vision!” she yelped and if Rose were in the church with Stark and Ultron, she would see Vision descend down from the roof, ready to attack. They needed to push Ultron out of their symbiosis, before they could close all exits for the AI. (Was Vision an AI too? Rose was going to have a long conversation with Stark about these things. She needed to get her descriptions right.)

                                         

**_What is this? What is happening?_** Ultron’s confusion grew as his power over her lessened. She held onto Vision and he held onto her—together, they felt stronger. They felt as if they were strong enough to fight Ultron.

 

Ultron felt it too—Rose heard him scream in her mind (Or was it _their_ mind? Her consciousness and Vision’s were one in this moment, at least that was what it felt like), but neither Vision nor her gave up—they kicked Ultron out of their symbiosis. He wouldn’t be able to get to them in this way, not anymore. Rose retreated from the nuclear launch codes, leaving her connection to the internet behind as she and Vision concentrated on crushing all ties of Ultron.

 

Vision grasped onto the other AI, holding onto him physically in that church, while Rose found and severed the roots that Ultron kept as _Get out of Jail free cards_ to the Internet. It was done in seconds and Rose felt her grip on Ultron slipping.

 

**_We did it, friend. Ultron is constricted to the bodies he has now. Let us stay in symbiosis, he will not be able to take over our will this way._ **

 

Rose blinked and found herself lying in the back of a car—as she lifted her head, she found Pietro staring down at her, looking left and right every few seconds to ensure that nobody was coming. “What did you do? You were out for minutes!” he yelped, relief clearly washing over his expression as he saw her sitting up, smiling.

Rose tapped against her head, reaching for the coms—oh god, this was amazing and it felt _so easy_. “Hey, guys. Vision and I burnt Ass-tron out of the internet. So now, all we gotta do is crush his bodies and we’re good.”

 

“Well done, kid. But don’t think we’re not gonna have words about this solo-shit you just pulled.” Clint’s words in her wear were strained—she heard explosions close to him. Rose turned to Pietro with a disgruntled expression on her face. “You _tattled_? To _Clint_?” she whined, getting out of the car. “You didn’t speak, you wouldn’t move! I had to ask someone!” Rose sighed, tapping his chest once. “It’s fine, Speedy. Alright, go, kill metal men.”

 

Pietro was gone within just a moment.

 

“Let’s go and get shit done, I guess.” She muttered, walking into the direction of the church again—That was when the earth started to move.

 

Rose fell to her knees and thankfully, she had enough presence of mind to get up and start running towards the church (it was in the center of the city and Vision was there).

 

It made sense a few seconds later— in a flying city, the center was safer than the edges.

 

“Holy shit.” The woman breathed into the coms as she watched the horizon disappear from under her, as she felt the wind whip open the braid that had become loose a long time ago. “Why the _hell_ are we flying, people?”

* * *

 

Stark answered, because Stark had an opinion on everything and because Vision must have told him that engaging with her was safe now as long as they were in symbiosis. So, unless Rose specifically wanted to (which she did _not_ , fyi) she couldn’t access his suit.

  
“It’s Ultron. The thing he built, the plans you guys found? That machine is under the church, sending us up in the air. He’s sending the city for a ride, only to drop it after.”

 

Rose didn’t need to know science to understand that the results of such a thing would be devastating. “How do we stop it?” she screamed into the coms, scrambling back up onto her knees and breaking into a run for the church. She needed to get there, hell, she needed to do _something_.

 

Tony sounded defeated as he spoke. “I don’t know.”

 

Clenching her teeth together, Rose ran faster. “Alright, we’ll figure it out. We’ll totally figure it out.” she panted into the coms and this time, Steve raised his voice.

 

“Status, everyone.”

 

Quickly, everyone recited where they were—Nat was with Cap on the West side of the city, Clint and Wanda were closer to the center. Vision and Thor were destroying metal men in the air, while Stark decided to fly down to take a look at the machinery that kept the city flying. Pietro was evacuating and Rose quickly recited the street names she passed as she ran.

 

The streets were still full of people, which slowed her run immensely, but Rose didn’t stop. She _needed_ to get to the machine in the middle—maybe, _just maybe_ , they found find a way to stop this. “Rose, stay where you are, I’m coming to you.” That was Clint’s voice in her head. “Screw you, Barton, I don’t need a babysitter.” She knew her words were harsh, but to be perfectly honest, she said worse things in worse situations.

 

“God damn it, kid, you _can’t defend yourself_!” Rose stopped in her tracks, breathing heavily.

 

 “Yeah. And still you pulled me along for that ride. So, I’m sorry, but you’ll have to survive a little friendly rebellion.”

 

She walked ahead, finding an empty car she could use—it was too old for her to use her powers on it; She hot-wired it the way Clint taught her over ten years ago “I’ve still got it.”, she whispered before she climbed in and hit the gas to get to the church, finally.

 

“Vision?” She didn’t reach out via the coms, but rather via their bonds. Their symbiosis was still there, yet neither of them had pulled on it to use the strength that came with it.

 

**_I believe you are upsetting friend Barton._ **

 

“He lives for this shit. Can you get a read on the machinery in the church? Is it anything we can manipulate?” Rose shifted into higher gear, using the sidewalk as a road at this point. The roads were cramped full of cars.

 

**_My analysis shows that we will not be able to manipulate it using your standard abilities. Do you have other ideas?_ **

 

Rose cursed under her breath, slowing down as she hit a part of the road full of people—they were scrambling to get into the opposite direction. “Eh, not so much. You?”

 

**_JARVIS’ abilities were expanded when you went into symbiosis the first time, yes?_ **

She took a turn, trading a lesser populated, yet thinner street for the main street. “Uh, yeah, and so have mine, but that doesn’t change anything.”

 

**_We have detected enhancement in your abilities, friend. Not an expansion._ **

 

“Okay? So what are you saying?”

 

**_I am saying that we may have been foolish in assuming that JARVIS was the only one affected by this symbiosis in such a substantial manner. Stop where you are._ **

 

Rose hit the break, stopping immediately. “Okay, I have stopped.” She took her feet off the break and gas. She was lucky she knew how to drive stick shift.

 

**_Reach out to the car._ **

“Vision, I can’t. There’s no signal, no nothing. I’m a cyberkinetic, not a technokinetic—I can control the signals that control the machine, not the machine itself. That’s exactly the problem.”

 

**_Do you trust me?_ **

 

“I’m starting not to.”

 

**_Try._ **

 

She exhaled loudly—this wasn’t the first time she had this conversation. Charles had been convinced she’d be able to control any piece of machinery known to mankind—he had tried his best to not look disappointed when they detected her boundaries. Rose did it anyway, though, if only to sass Vision for not believing her.

 

Sometimes, when Rose explained the way the world seemed for her, she said that all these cell signals and radio waves and wi-fi connections felt to her as if she was sitting at a bus stop, just waiting for the right bus to hitch a ride at, if she chose to.

 

This was different. Vision pushed their symbiosis into her consciousness, making her more aware of their connection as she closed her eyes and imagined that bus stop (this was how she had learned to control her powers—she literally imagined a bus stop, dubbing the signals as busses; It had been Charles idea, of course, brilliant man that he had been. That’s where the bus metaphor came from). But this was different—that car she was sitting in was _there_. It was accessible. This felt different, actually.

 

Her cyberkinetic powers were all gentle knocks on doors, wide smiles and sweet suggestions. It was mentally exhausting to use them, often leaving her with headaches that made her life hell for hours at a time. What she felt with that car—it was all oil stains and calloused hands and physical strain. This was much more physical.

 

Rose felt as if she was lifting a ton of bricks, but when the car roared to life out of nowhere, the weight disappeared into nothing. She yelped in shock, unaware of the fact that she was connected to the team via the line to the coms she had open in her head.

 

“Rose? Are you hurt, _milaya_?” That was Natasha, this time. Rose took a few seconds to stare at the car that began to move. Her hands weren’t on the wheel and her feet were not on the pedals. It was moving because she _made it move_.

 

“No, but I think I’m hallucinating.”

 

“I told you it would work, friend. Our symbiosis expands your powers to a technokinetic level.” Vision intercepted into the coms.

 

Rose was still in the process of understanding why this car was driving at her will. She shouldn’t be able to do this.

 

“What? I thought you can’t do that, kid. Didn’t you and Xavier test that shit out every day for three months?” Clint grunted into the coms, obviously hit by something. As long as he still called her kid, she was fine.

 

“I thought so too. Yeah, we did, but back then—it never felt like this. Do you know what that means?”

 

It was Stark, who answered.

  
“It means we have a shot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, guys! Vision & Rose being friends is giving me life tbh. Let me know what you think :)


	12. Is Captain America allowed to say that word?

Rose let go of the car and physically began to drive (hand and feet, stick shift and gas pedal, the whole deal). The fact that she could control this machinery in a way she never had been able to before was enough for Rose to freak out a tiny little bit. If she had the time, Rose would try to think about every implication of this change—she’d suggest that, while the symbiosis made JARVIS more human, it made her more machine.

(Of course, now that she was doing this with Vision, same rules applied—Rose tried hard to not think of him as JARVIS. She wondered how Tony felt.)

 

“Alright, change of plans, everyone. Get to the church, _now_.” Steve spoke over the coms and Rose hummed in appreciation. While she usually wasn’t one to follow orders without questioning them, she might actually make a difference for Captain America (this time, _this time_. Only because those blue eyes made her feel very patriotic).

 

She stopped as soon as she could see the church close enough to walk—she’d be faster on foot, more flexible. So, the car was abandoned as Rose broke into a sprint, swearing up and down about how she’d pick up the jogging habit again when this was over, because she was _way_ too out of breath for someone her age. Stark, Vision and Thor were there first (because flying, _duh_ ) and Rose came in a close second. “Hey, boys. What nice weather we have today.” she greeted them as she arrived, leaning against the wall to catch her breath.

“You look a bit tired.” Stark opted and Rose stuck her tongue out to him.

 

“Not everyone has a suit that carries them everywhere.”

 

“To be fair, I did offer to let you borrow one.”

 

Clint appeared next to her, shaking his head. “Dude, _no_. She’ll only get in trouble.”

 

Rose leaned away from the wall, taking a long minute to inspect Clint for injuries and she sighed in relief when she found none. “Happy, kid?”

 

Rose rolled her eyes. “Eh, I was hoping Nat might have to trade you in for a younger model or something. Looks like you’ll still do for a while.”

 

Nat walked into the church, looking Rose over. “Why, are you offering?”

  
Rose laughed at that. “I think we’d kill each other before we’d be done, sorry.”

 

Natasha grinned knowingly—Cap was the last one to get in, beat only by the Hulk and Pietro and Wanda; The Sokovian had carried his sister here. Rose was tempted to _aww_. She didn’t.

 

“Alright, talk to me, what is your plan.” Cap looked beat up in a way that Rose would have never considered possible. She felt sorry for him. Those bruises probably hurt like hell, even though she could _swear_ she saw them fading already.

 

Rose looked at Stark and Stark looked back. “You have to tell me what to do here, Tony. I know shit about engineering.”

 

“Remind me to fix that when this is over. I’m gonna make you an engineer. For starters, maybe we should stop getting any higher. Y’think you can do that?” Rose chewed on her lower lip. She had never done anything like that before.

 

“Help me out, Vision?”

 

“Certainly.”

 

Rose reached out for the core—she knew nothing about machinery, but Vision was right there. He was an ever present source of _calm_ rooted deep in her spine—at least that was how it felt. He had seen the blueprints she had shown him from that cell and Stark gasped out of the sudden, closing his helmet quickly. Vision was showing him what they saw.

 

“Alright, this right there—you see that, to your left? Okay, if you disable it, we should stop getting any higher—how can you even get in there like this, maybe I should—“

 

“ _Stark_!” Nat, Clint and Steve muttered in unison.

 

“Sorry. You got it, kiddo?”

 

Rose grabbed the piece, grabbed it tight, keeping the machine firmly in her mental grasp—this was different to what she was used to. It felt so— _physical_. Her arms ached for no reason, but Rose kept pouring every ounce of her will into that _goddamnstupidthingwhyisitnotworking?_

 

She let go, a pair of hands (calloused, broken in several places and never really healed) kept her from falling. Rose breathed heavily, her heart beating way too quickly for it to be healthy—she was approaching this wrong and she knew it. “Rose, kid, come on, relax, if it doesn’t work, it’s okay. You’re not trained for this.” Clint muttered in her ear as he kept her upright, but she merely shook her head. “I got it, Clint. Let me go.” Reluctantly, the archer listened.

 

She swayed the tiniest bit as she got back on her feet, taking a more defensive stance. She was not going to be the one to fail. All she needed was the right concentration, the right _focus_. She could do it, Rose felt it deep in her bones that this was part of her skill set now (at least as long as she was with Vision). All that needed to be done was—

 

_They were standing on a balcony, all three of them. Charles had chuckled and gently wrapped her neck in his own scarf as she coughed twice, cursing the cold wind. She was sitting in his lap, as usual, her legs bent over the armrest of the wheelchair. Charles’ hand was on her knees, his index finger painting small circles over the fabric of her jeans. Erik was leaning against the railing, the faint look of jealousy on his eyes overshadowed by the newest feeling he had around them—appreciation. **Hunger**. Rose could see it in his eyes, she always knew he loved them both. Soon, she promised herself, soon she’d tell Charles and they’d figure this out the right way. Charles never knew about Erik, Rose didn’t think. He never read his mind._

_“Just give it a try, Erik.” Her voice was teasing, a challenge underlining her words. Erik loved challenges. “Yes. What happened to the man who tried to lift a submarine?” Charles echoed, his smile more encouraging than anything else._

_“He failed at lifting the submarine. I can’t do it like this. I need the situation, the anger.” Erik scowled—he had tried to turn the giant satellite dish a few miles ahead of them. He hadn’t really done so well._

_“Maybe anger isn’t the right way to approach this.” Charles scolded quietly._

_“Anger is what has gotten the job done all this time.”_

_“Anger is what has gotten you almost killed all this time.” Charles returned in that dry-as-desert-sands-voice he always put on when either one of them were annoying him. Rose grinned, planting a kiss onto Charles’ cheek. “Nice. Couldn’t have said it any better, babe.”_

_Erik scowled. “I disapprove of you two teaming up on me.” Rose rolled her eyes, jumping to her feet—she leaned against the railing next to Erik, smiling. “Come ooooooooon, Erik. Just give it another try. What’s the harm?”_

_Charles rolled closer to them, a thoughtful look on his face. “You know, I always believed that true focus lies somewhere between rage and serenity. Do you mind if I—” He wiggled his fingers and Rose turned her back to the men, giving them privacy._

_Charles never told her what he saw in Erik’s head and Erik never spoke of it again._

_He turned the satellite dish once Charles let go._

She raised both of her hands, fingers slightly bent—Her eyes were open, but it was clear that she wasn’t seeing anything, anyone. Vision held her power upright, she felt his presence in the way the core responded to her will—she knew he was the glasses she needed to see the world in more than black and white (so to speak). Her digits shook with the strain and she clenched her teeth together, but Rose didn’t call upon her rage to do the job. She couldn’t. _Somewhere between rage and serenity_.

 

She thought of Charles’ blue, _blue_ eyes as he lifted her hands to kiss the tips of her fingers. She thought of Erik as she threw him on the mat with glee, kissing both his cheeks so he wouldn’t pout. She thought of her parents, of her mother teaching her how to knit and of her father laughing when she lost another loop.

 

She thought of Fury, but instead of feeling the anger, she felt strength. She felt power.

 

Her grasp around the core returned and this time, it didn’t feel like a ton of bricks, but a manageable amount of weight. She could do it.

 

As she felt she was done, Rose let go, closing her eyes once, breathing in. She released her breath the second Stark announced that they weren’t gaining height anymore.

 

She reopened her eyes, lower lip trembling for a moment, before she regained her cool. Natasha’s thumb swiped across Rose’s cheek and the younger woman turned to looked at her. Had she been crying? Rose hadn’t even noticed her own tears, apparently.

 

“That was intense.” Clint muttered next to her and Rose swallowed. “It’s fine. Just an old trick Charles showed me.” A wistful smile was on her face for a moment, before she rubbed her hands across her face.

 

“We need to protect the core—Ultron will do anything to come back here and restart it.” Steve explained—she could see on his face that he had questions and Rose found herself willing to answer them, much to her own surprise. _When this is over_ , she promised herself. _When this is over I’m going to rethink my life choices._

 

“We’re too high up to bring the city back down, right?” Rose questioned into Tony’s direction and the man shook his head. “We can’t. Millions of casualties.” Rose cursed under her breath and ran her hands through her hair.

 

“What if—“ she muttered, turning to Tony. “You’ve seen the plans. Can we blow it up?”

 

Steve shook his head harshly. “No, not with one civilian on it.”

 

Rose waved her hand at him slightly. “No, of course not. I mean, in general. Pretend that it’s only us on here and we could get off, for an arguments sake. Could we blow up the city without causing crazy damage?”

 

Tony seemed to listen to FRIDAY thoughtfully, before he nodded. “Yes. But there’s that whole deal with the hundreds of civilians that we _can’t_ get off the city.”

 

True. But at least now they had one half of a plan—now they only needed to figure out how to get the remaining civilians off the flying city. Vision seemed to have read her mind (they were still in symbiosis and thus, Rose was certain that he _was_ reading her mind), because he told the rest of the group exactly that.

 

Steve ground his teeth together in a motion that Rose would later call ‘ _jaw of justice_ ’, before he looked to Natasha and Clint. “Is there no way S.H.I.E.L.D. still has any planes we can use?” The question was met with a shrug from Nat and a sigh from Clint.

 

Rose cursed. “If you know where they are, I’ll steal ‘em and bring them here.” she eventually suggested—with her current reach and Vision’s help, she might actually give it a damn try. At this point, they were desperate. “We don’t. I’m sorry, kid.” Clint muttered.

 

“Shit, god _damn it_!” she hissed and out of pure frustration, she kicked against the stairs that lead up to the middle of the church, which had the core of the machine buried inside of it. “How come you don’t tell _her_ to watch the language, Cap?” Tony complained, pointing his finger at her the way only a five-year-old and Tony fucking Stark would. Steve shot him an annoyed look.

 

Then, suddenly, all of them stiffened in-- surprise? Shock? Rose blinked. “What?” She had retreated from the coms ever since they were all together now—no need to keep unnecessary tabs open, so to speak.

 

“Fury, you son of a bitch.” Steve muttered but there was a wide smile on his face.

 

Rose whistled. “Is Captain America allowed to say that word? I think it’s in the constitution that you can’t.”

 

Tony grinned at her. 

 

After a few seconds, Steve seemed to be refocused. He looked at the group, apparently assessing their powers. “Alright, here’s the deal. Fury brought a Helicarrier, so we can evacuate. Someone has to stay and protect the core. Thor, Vision, Wanda and Banner, you’ll stay and keep the core safe from any attacks. Natasha, Clint, Rose, Pietro—you and I will go and get the people onto the Helicarrier. Tony, Rhodey is here. The two of you are going to keep Ultron away from the civilians while we’re loading them up. Alright?”

 

While Rose wasn’t _too_ keen on being apart from Vision, she couldn’t really object. It was a solid plan. The rest of the group seemed to be just as determined to do what Steve said, so she wasn’t going to argue.

 

“Good. Let’s go.” Cap took off in a couple of long strides and Rose lead Nat and Clint to the car she used to get here. She climbed onto the backseat and Clint made the car roar back to life—Rose tried to feel nothing but confidence and support as she watched metal men crawl their way to the church. Thor, Vision, Banner and Wanda totally had things under control. She still couldn’t help praying silently to whatever God was listening. _Please keep them safe. They’re good people_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just gonna be here crying about Erik, Charles and Rose. OT3 right there :c I think I'm going to post every three days now. With uni and work starting again, things have gotten a little bit hectic around here recently. 
> 
> Let me know what you think! 
> 
> The next chapter has a part from Steve's POV. I'm excited :)


	13. And then there was nothing.

Steve Rogers had learned a couple of things since 1945 (and _yes_ , he even improved his kissing, _thank you very much, Nat)_. He learned that in the past seventy years, life had changed for him beyond any comprehension. Tony still frequently made fun of him when he didn’t understand a reference or asked a spectacularly stupid question. In the beginning, Steve had been angry with Stark every time he did, but now he only realized that Tony couldn’t really _help_ him without being a dick. He couldn’t quite express his feelings any other way, so if Tony insulted him for a good few minutes before taking two hours of his time to explain everything in a simple way to Steve, he’d take that.

 

Steve also learned that there were much scarier things in this world now. _You know I really miss the days when the weirdest thing science ever created was me._ That was what he had told Fury and Steve missed the simplicity of his time sometimes. He was nothing if not adaptable, but when he looked at the group of people he led, Steve wondered _how the hell he was supposed to do that_. He knew Clint and Nat, knew them in an out. The Maximoff boy and the girl ( _woman_ , she was no girl, as Steve was _fully_ aware of) Barton seemed so close with—those two were complete wild cards. Maybe he was too harsh to them, but Steve Rogers wasn’t going to risk the lives of his friends for a couple of enhanced people he didn’t know. _Mutants_ , he reminded himself. _That’s what I oughta call ‘em_.

They were near the bridge again soon, the Maximoff boy quicker than all of them combined. Fury’s people had already begun loading up the smaller safety boats (were they called safety boats even when they were more like safety planes? They looked like boats to Steve). Above him, Rhodey and Stark were shooting down metal men like it was all they had ever done their entire life. Steve was tired. He wanted to do _nothing_ more than shower and lay down for eight hours straight. But adrenaline was pulsing in his veins and he needed to get these people to safety first. He could do this. Scrawny, skinny Steven Rogers from Brooklyn, with not enough money in his pockets to afford the pen and paper he made his damn living with— _he could do this_.

 

“Alright everyone, let’s get on there!” he yelled, using the _Cap_ voice that made people listen to him. Hawkeye and Natasha helped people inside slowly. Pietro opted for carrying the smaller kids or fighting off any metal men that came to the ground. Rose helped, yet she stared up to the air often enough—he was about to tell her to concentrate when she reached out to touch his arm. “They’re too many for Tony and Rhodey, I think. They need help.” Steve followed her gaze and with a sigh, he had to admit she was right. “I’ll tell Thor.”

 

But to his surprise, the woman shook her head. “Nope, I’ve got it. Can you keep me from being shot?” Steve nodded, confused. _He hated this, hated this so much. She was blindsiding him and he didn’t know her, didn’t know what to do with her. What was her skill set? Fuck if he knew_.

 

He did what she asked anyway, keeping her close to him as she did that _thing_ of hers—he still pulled civilians onto those boats, but his eyes wandered over to the woman every couple of seconds. She was in deep focus and Steve wondered what the hell she was doing, until he heard _something_ approach them. With a yelp of surprise, he saw the Quinjet they came with fly across the sky by the move of her delicate hand. The Jet opened fire on Ultron’s other bodies, decimating them—or at least holding them down for Tony and Rhodey to finish off.

 

“Who’s flying this thing?” Tony yelled into Steve’s ear.

 

Rose next to him laughed. “ _I_ am. Now don’t fly into my shots, dude, I don’t want to shoot you out of the sky.”

 

Steve stared at her fingers the entire time—he had seen these hands tremble from the very first moment she stepped into the conference room at the Avengers Tower from the moment they approached the African coast to get to Ulysses Klaue. But her fingers weren’t shaking now, he observed, but rather moving slowly, as if she was a puppeteer and the entire world was hers to control. He’d draw her hands, Steve decided. When this was over, he’d draw her hands.

* * *

 

They were done—Rose helped the last civilian (an elderly man who kissed both her cheeks in thanks as soon as he was safe and sound on the boat). She turned around to skim over the city. It was ghostly by now—most of Ultron’s metal men were crushed to pieces all over the floor. The city seemed to have been pulled apart at the seams—even if they had a chance to save it, Rose was not sure whether there was anything left to save.

Rose had landed the Quinjet close to them, so they could get on board once they were done. Vision promised to take Wanda with him. Everyone else who wasn’t here could fly. She felt weak on her knees and she knew that it had something to do with the symbiosis. Using her powers to such an extend exhausted her on a normal occasion, but the effort it took to stay with Vision’s mind the entire time was slowly taking the breath out of her lungs. She looked slightly delirious, Rose knew that, but she kept going either way.

 

One more time, she skimmed over the land to ensure that nobody was left—only to be proven wrong. Clint ran past her, aiming at a young boy that Rose hadn’t seen until yet. She took a few steps into the direction, covering his six (Natasha had placed a gun into her hands, but Rose had straight up refused. She hated guns, always had. Guns had been Erik’s thing).

 

Pietro and Nat were on the Quinjet already; Nat was trying to get it started. Steve was standing next to the full boat, his hand raised to keep them here until the boy was on board as well.

 

She didn’t see them coming until they were right in front of her nose, stopping between Clint and her. He had the boy in his arms, turning to have his back to the three metal men in front of him. Someone screamed _something_. She heard Steve throw his shield. It wouldn’t be here on time.

 

Rose raised her hand.

 

She raised her hand and she opened her mind, violently pulling on the symbiosis she and Vision had. She sucked them dry, taking all they had to give and then some. Ultron was right there.

 

Back in the African coast, her will hadn’t been strong enough. He had taken her apart, made her dance like a puppet on a string. She had been lacking the focus, the simple force of mind to take him on.

 

Rose didn’t lack any force, nor did she lack focus. Not now.

 

When she reached out to Ultron this time, when she held onto him with all her might, with all her fury and her calm, with her love and hatred, this time, _this time_ —he stopped.

 

He was under her control. Maybe it was because of Vision. Maybe it was all her.

 

But when Rose screamed in fury and mentally yanked them back from her friend, _the only goddamn friend she had left damn it_ , Ultron had no chance but to obey.

 

When she told him to self-destruct his bodies in a voice that wasn’t hers, he couldn’t help but make his own bodies shoot at each other until there was nothing but a giant blast that threw Rose on her back from sheer force.

 

There was pain, for a long moment there was pain.

 

And then there was nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a rather short one, but I didn't want to add the next scene to it already. The next one will be much longer. How do we feel about Steve? I've never written anything from his POV before I hope it was good c:


	14. Rosie, what do you do to yourself?

When Rose was younger, about the age of six or seven, her mother would always draw her a hot bath every Friday evening. She’d shower regularly during the week, but Fridays were special—it meant that mom could have a glass of wine, that dad would turn up the music very loud when he stood in the kitchen and that Rose would get her hot bath. Her mother would put some nice smelling oils in the water and Rose would lean back and not come out until the water was cold. Sometimes, she’d pinch her nose with two fingers and slip underwater to open her eyes—her mom had continued buying bath salts that _weren’t_ irritating to the eyes after that. Things sounded different under water, much duller.

 

That was how she felt now.

 

She couldn’t open her eyes, but not for lack of trying. It seemed as if her eyelids weighed tons, leaving her incapable of identify who was in the room with her. She heard _something_ , but the voice was dulled out—just like under water. Rose did feel a couple of crooked, _broken-and-never-healed-properly_ fingers brush her hair out of her face. She tried to speak. Rose fell asleep instead.

* * *

 

A voice spoke to her again and this time, she could hear a bit better. Her eyelids were too heavy yet again and Rose didn’t even attempt to speak, knowing it was entirely impossible. “I will make you strong again, _milaya_.” Rose knew only one person who spoke Russian like this and she was certain she dreamt someone kissing her forehead.

 

* * *

The next time she woke, she parted her lips, trying to lick over them. They felt chapped and they hurt. Coming to think of it, everything hurt.

 

“Do you think she’ll be okay?” Was that Tony? He sounded worried. Rose didn’t know that Tony Stark ever could sound worried.

“She will be fine. It will take some time for her brain to heal, there still is some swelling. Another few days and she’ll be awake, I’m sure.”

There was a moment of silence and Bruce spoke again—he whispered.

“Tony, she will be okay.” There was a sound of a kiss.

“Mmm. Do your best, Brucie-Bear.”

 

Rose was glad when she fell asleep, because the kissing sounds kept happening.

* * *

 

She opened her eyes the next time. It was dark, Rose found. The room was not clinical at all—as a matter of fact, the only thing that reminded her of a hospital was the bed. There were several comfortable seats and a small couch in the room. She saw Avengers plushies all over the couch—there were a couple of flowers and balloons as well. She swallowed slowly, wincing at how dry her throat felt.

  
“Rosie, what do you do to yourself?”

  
Rose hadn’t noticed anyone in her room until now, so when she looked up and saw a familiar face she couldn’t help but wonder whether she was still dreaming. Erik still looked the same—just _older_. It was dark, but Rose was certain she could see a grey streak in the originally brown hair (he had had a ginger tint in it, Rose had always claimed), but other than that he looked the same. She tried to speak, tried to say something, but nothing would come out. Erik looked into her eyes for a moment, before he leaned down and pushed a kiss between her eyebrows. “Get better, silly girl. I will come for you again.”

 

By the time Rose had processed that, he was gone—or had he ever been there in the first place?

* * *

 

She spoke the next time she woke up. Opened her eyes first, but spoke second.

 

“Hi.” God, her voice sounded awful from disuse. Her throat was scratchy and her lips were still chapped.

 

Someone from her peripheral vision jumped up and soon she was faced with a worried Steve. “Rose? Hey, can you hear me?” he was whispering, but Rose could hear him just fine. This didn’t sound like under water noise anymore.

 

She licked over her dry lower lip, before nodding ever so slightly. Steve squeezed her hand and dashed to the door, calling for a nurse or a doctor or _someone_.

 

Once he was back at her side and his attention was on her, she swallowed. “Water?”

 

Steve jumped again, looking a bit confused for a second, as if he didn’t really know what to do in the room, before he saw the water pitcher on the coffee table, next to the Avenger plushie couch. “Sure, sure, comin’ right up, Ma’am.”

 

He brought her a glass of the water, cradling the back of her neck ever so carefully as she sipped on it. God this felt good. “Do you want more?” he asked, but Rose shook her head. She needed to go slow.

 

Bruce rushed in, followed by Clint, who had two cups of coffee in his hand. Clint placed them next to the pitcher of water as Bruce came over and lit one of these tiny pen-flashlights into her eye. Rose let Bruce fuss over her as he checked whether she could see and understand everything. “Okay, Rose, I’m sure you’re very confused now, but you need to answer some questions for me alright?”

 

Clint was next to her side immediately, sitting on the bed with crossed legs. He had one of her hands in one of his, texting Natasha with the other. “Okay.” She answered slowly.

 

“Who’s the guy holding your hand?” Rose blinked, looked at Clint and back at Bruce. “Clint.”

“Very good. And who am I?” Rose smiled, even though it hurt on her chapped lips. “Brucie-Bear.”

 

Bruce blushed from head to toe, but he kept taking notes. “Do you know where you are?” Rose shrugged. “A hospital?”

 

Bruce nodded. “Well, actually the medbay at the Avengers Tower, but I take hospital too. Do you have any trouble hearing, seeing or processing anything?” She shook her head.

 

“Good, good. Okay, Rose, what is the last thing you remember from Sokovia?”

 

That was a bit more difficult. Her fingers involuntarily twitched in Clint’s hand. “Ultron was trying to—to kill Clint. I took—I did something—“

 

Talking wasn’t easy, so she looked over to Steve with a pleading look in her eyes. He immediately helped her drink a bit of water again.

 

“Okay. Well, what happened is—you destroyed Ultron. At least that is what Vision said.”

 

“…I did what now?”

 

Clint chuckled, Bruce smiled.

 

“Vision said that, in that moment, you took over Ultron, making him abide your wishes. You told him to self-destruct and he did. After that, you fell over, unconscious, breaking the symbiosis between Vision and you. You slept for a long time—your brain started to swell and you had two seizures. They were minor, but for us it was clear that your brain needed some rest.”

 

That was a lot to process for sure. Rose looked from Bruce to Clint and from Clint to Steve—they all seemed to be serious about this whole thing, even though she couldn’t quite believe it. “How long?”

 

“Two weeks and three days” Clint answered this time.

  
“Good news is, your recovery will not take much longer now. If we’re right, getting you to wake up and speak was the hard part. We will have to do a few more tests, but I am confident you will be all better soon.”

 

Clint exhaled in relief and squeezed her hand, only to let go as his phone buzzed. “It’s Nat—I’ll be right back.” He picked up and left the room.

 

Bruce looked after Clint for a second, before he looked back at Rose. “Are you in pain?” She considered the question carefully. “Wait a second.”

 

Rose slowly attempted to sit up, which she managed more or less—Steve’s hand was curled on her back, keeping her steady in case she lost her strength. She did make it on her own, though. Carefully, Rose began to move parts of her body—she curled her toes, rotated her foot, bending her knee slightly, wiggling her fingers and carefully raising her shoulders. She let her shoulders fall down with a huff, before she shook her head. “Just my head a little, but, otherwise… nothing.”

 

Bruce seemed relieved and continued taking notes on the tablet he held in his hands. Steve turned to her, capturing her attention by lightly brushing his fingertips across her forearm. “Do you want us to call anyone for you?”

 

For a moment, she was about to shake her head—there was no family she could call, no friends to reassure. But then, Rose remembered. “Vision?”

 

 

Bruce made her swear up and down to not initiate symbiosis. He insisted that her brain wasn’t ready for it and Rose was inclined to believe him. So far they certainly didn’t know enough about the effects that the symbiosis had on both Vision and her. Bruce intended on running some tests “Only if you agree, obviously, nobody is going to make you do anything you don’t want!” once she was feeling better. Vision had carried away no injuries from Sokovia, Steve had told her, much to her own relief.

 

She then asked for a rundown of what happened after and was she was told how they cleared the city seconds after Ultron was destroyed by her own hand. Steve had carried her onto the jet and they had flown away far enough to not be hit when Stark and Thor broke the city into a million pieces.

 

There had been some cracked ribs and bruises all over the Avengers, but all in all they were all fine now. Clint returned, grabbing the coffee he had actually brought on the way in and placed one of the cups in Steve’s hands. Rose whimpered as she made grabby hands for the coffee, but was met with a stern shake of Bruce’s head. “No coffee yet. You need to eat properly first.”

 

Steve gave her an apologetic smile as she leaned back to pout. “What did Natasha say?”

 

Clint took a sip of his coffee, shrugging. “Ah, the usual. She’s glad you’re alive, says she owes you one. Also says she’ll beat your ass into shape once you’re back on your feet.” Steve kicked Clint in his shin. “ _Ow_ , man! If you want to, _of course_ , don’t be an ass, Cap!”

 

Rose smiled slightly, leaning back. Bruce left with a promise of some food arriving soon. Rose hoped for his swift return. Clint was a handful, especially in her state.

 

“You don’t have to stay, you know? I’m fine. Go get some sleep or something.”

 

Clint just snorted, leaning back in his chair. “Not a chance, kid. That couch in here and I have become fast friends last couple of weeks. I’m not gonna leave you alone here, not if I can help it.”

 

Steve shot her a gentle smile as well. “I’d rather not leave you all alone, Ma’am. You were injured under my supervision and I’d like to see you recover.” Rose reached out and punched Steve against the shoulder—well, considering her lack of strength and his Iron muscles, it was more of a nudge, but she did her best.

 

“First of all, you know my name. _Rose_. I’m sure you can say it, so use it. Second, didn’t I give you a lecture about not making yourself responsible for shit you didn’t do? I totally recall that. So take it back a notch. I’m okay, everyone else is okay, this is not your fault.”

 

Steve almost comically slowly looked at his biceps and then at her, as if her punching (nudging) him like this was the literally last thing he ever thought was possible. She raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m serious, Steve. I’m sure you have a star spangled martyr-complex as big as the Empire State Building is tall, but really. We’re all good here.”

 

Clint giggled, falling backwards onto her bed, his head hitting her feet. “Oh Cap, are you in for a treat.” he managed to burst out between chuckles, actual tears glistening up the corners of his eyes. Rose kicked his shoulder. “Don’t be rude, Hawkass.”

 

She looked over to Steve to make sure she didn’t hurt his feelings, but he was actually smiling, shaking his head. Good. The idea of him blaming himself for this didn’t sit right with her whatsoever.

 

Clint’s phone vibrated and he pulled it out, frowning. “Bruce says Vision doesn’t want to come until you’re back on your feet. Something about not wanting to endanger you.”

 

That certainly made her frown. While his sentiment was appreciated, him staying away wasn’t. It was probably smarter, though, Rose had to admit that—there was nothing clear on what triggered this 2-week long nap of hers and until she was back up, she shouldn’t test it. Yet, she still would have liked to see him.

 

“Okay. Tell him it’s fine.” She sighed, sliding back down in a horizontal position, kicking her legs free and throwing them over Clint’s lap. “Fair warning, if you’re gonna stay here, I haven’t shaved my legs in like 3-ish weeks.” Clint shrugged. “Haven’t shaved mine in 44 years, kid.”

 

Rose laughed and snuggled a bit closer into the blanket, turning so she was facing Steve, who took a notepad and a pencil she hadn’t noticed before. “Are you drawing me like one of your French girls?”

 

His pencil almost fell out of his hand and Steve blushed from head to toe, beginning to stammer excuses about how he’d never do anything like that without her consent, but Rose was softly snoring by the time he managed to string two sentences together.

* * *

 

The next week was a rinse-wash-repeat of what happened that day.

 

Whenever Rose woke up, Bruce would come to check in. She’d find Clint crashing on the couch or on a chair, usually accompanied by someone else—mostly Natasha, sometimes Steve and on rare occasions Wanda. Tony had tried to visit several times, but Bruce shooed him out every time, saying something about explosions following him wherever he went. Rose wasn’t going to object.

 

Wanda painted her nails bedroom black and Rose did the same for the younger woman in return. They chatted over mundane things, not attempting to get too deep into what happened or who they were. Rose knew that there was going to be a bigger discussion happening between the two of them—namely about figuring out whether they were both the same kind of mutants or whether Wanda was different from her. To her own surprise, she found herself to care about the younger girl.

 

That was probably because ten years ago, she _was_ Wanda.

 

Clint brought Netflix and the two of them spent _hours_ rewatching House M.D., much to Natasha’s annoyance. Rose and Clint both spoke along to Hugh Laurie, knowing fully well what the actor was going to say in every scene.

 

Natasha told Rose office gossip and while none of the people she mentioned really rang a bell, Nat’s dry humor and occasionally disgusted eyebrow-raise certainly made it fun to listen.

 

Steve usually drew, sometimes he spoke of the way Sokovia was healing. Stark had thrown a lot of money and resources at the country, so to speak, and things were happening—but Rose could see in Steve’s eyes that things weren’t going to be easy for Sokovia. He never asked her whether she was interested in being an Avenger. Rose wouldn’t have known the answer to that question.

 

A week after she woke up, Rose thought life was looking up for her. She was fully capable of moving around the med bay. She took showers and braided her hair to make it wavy, got access to computers and had tentatively attempted to reach out to the machinery. It all felt the same to her. When she attempted to use the technopathic way to get what she wanted, she saw nothing—Rose had assumed that this ability was linked to her symbiosis with Vision. It bothered her either way.

 

She was sitting cross-legged on her bed with Tony, who had brought a deck of cards. Clint had been shoved out of the room for the first time in forever and Tony _promised_ not to count cards or plan world domination while the archer was gone. Rose snarkily pointed out that she made no such promise (on the world domination, obviously, counting cards wasn’t happening). She wore Iron Man pajamas (courtesy of Stark, obviously. He refused to give her anything but Iron Man or Hulk merchandise. Rose was certain Clint and Nat were planning on changing that) and she was winning like a boss.

 

The Flop showed a three and a four that complimented the two and five she had on her hand perfectly—all of them were hearts, too. Now she only needed an ace or a six to at least get a Straight, if not a Straight Flush if the card was the right suit. Tony contemplated his move (they didn’t use actual money, but actually cups of jello instead) as someone walked in.

 

Rose felt horribly underdressed the second Pepper Potts laid eyes on her in the stark white blouse, black skirt and black blazer that fit so perfectly around her slender frame that Rose wondered whether people designed things specifically for her. But then again, this was Pepper Potts, so that was entirely possible.

 

Truthfully, it was a mystery to her how people _didn’t_ feel terribly inadequate in Pepper Potts’ presence. Rose was already plucking her shirt in place, cursing Stark under her breath for allowing no other pajamas than Iron Man or Hulk ones. Hell, any simple grandma nightie would have done better. She lifted her hand to touch her braids, thanking Thor and every God out there that she had had the presence to ask Natasha to help her wash her grease ball of hair this morning. Nurses were pretty insistent that Rose didn’t go to shower alone, not wanting to her to risk another seizure like the ones she had in Sokovia. Rose had been fully prepared to wash her hair in the tiny sink that was in her room, but Nat had offered to lean against wall in the bathroom as Rose rubbed the dirt and grime out of her black hair. Nat had braided them after.

 

“Hey Pep!” Tony yelped and his entire face looked as if someone had just turned on the light—he bounced off the bed and pushed a chaste kiss onto her cheek as Pepper gave him a stern look, sometimes that probably meant _Tony, don’t_ and was designed to bring grown men to their knees. Looking at Tony, he seemed like he’d spent his life on his knees if she asked him to, and he’d be happy about it. _Good for you, dude_.

 

She rose from her bed, pulling her pajamas into place, rubbing the fabric of her pants between her fingers in insecurity. “It’s nice to meet you, Miss Potts.”

 

Pepper just smiled, extending her hand—Rose shook it after a second, a smile on her lips as she did so. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Miss Kapoor.”

 

“Please, Rose is fine.”

 

“Well, then you must call me Pepper. First of all, I’m glad that you have recovered—I can say for certain that everyone was pretty worried about you.”

 

“Thank you?”

 

Pepper smiled, gesturing towards the bed—Rose took her seat again as Pepper sat down on the chair that Steve usually sat on when he drew. Rose looked over to Tony, who peeked under her cards and sighed in relief. Oh yeah, she’d have taken all his jello cups if he had called.

 

“Miss Kapoor— _Rose._ Tony told me what you told him about these contracts you signed back when you joined S.H.I.E.L.D—when was that exactly?”

 

“12 years ago. I was 20.”

 

“Right. Well, I do hope you don’t mind, but my lawyers did a little digging. These contracts were given to us by Mr. Barton—he said he took them from your apartment. Do I even want to ask whether he has a key or—“

Rose sighed. “He doesn’t need one. He also doesn’t understand that I don’t want him breaking into my apartment, but he only sees the lack of key as a challenge, if that makes sense.”

 

Pepper frowned, clearly displeased. “Yes, knowing Clint, it makes perfect sense. I am sorry about that. Either way, our lawyers have found certain loopholes that, if you choose to, can be used to break the contract you signed into pieces, so to speak. If you want us to, we can make you a free woman.”

 

“Pepper, no offense, but I hate it when people lie to me. What is the catch?”

 

Pepper’s expression didn’t change whatsoever, she kept smiling the entire time. “Look, there is nothing we want from you in return for this service. We can make it happen right now, no questions asked. There is another offer that Tony wants to make you, though. It is unrelated in a sense that we don’t expect you to take it just because we help you with getting rid of the agreements you signed. Sure, if you choose to accept Tony’s offer, we will have to make the agreements go away. But if you want them gone, that doesn’t mean you owe anyone anything.”

 

Rose looked to Tony, who was shuffling the deck of cards expertly between his fingers. He looked to Pepper and then to her, blinking in confusion as if he hadn’t expected to be brought into this discussion. “Well—I mean; my offer is pretty obvious, ain’t it? Capsicle actually wanted to ask you, but the guy has a knack for waiting too long, so, if he asks; you pushed me and everything. We want you to join the Avengers and I want you to be my lab partner. Lab minion. You’ll be my new JARVIS, since you kinda took my old JARVIS. Oh, yeah, standard six figure salary because you’re saving the world and all that, you get an apartment in my tower, food’s on me, Pepper can take you shopping for a bonus because I told Barton to burn half the clothes he brought back from your place--”

 

Rose flinched. “Brought _back_ from my place? Who told you to raid my place? I haven’t said yes yet, Jesus Christ!”

 

Tony blinked, looking to Pepper as if she had all the answers of the universe and knowing Pepper Potts, she might. Pepper cleared her throat. “In his defense, that was actually Clint and Natasha. I apologize, though, I should have stopped them.”

 

“I worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. before. You can see how that turned out.”

 

Tony ticked his jaw a little. “We’re not S.H.I.E.L.D. We don’t lie to our people.”

 

“You can’t promise that.”

 

And for the actual first time ever, Tony Stark looked at her without his usual _devil-may-care_ attitude. “I can. I do. I will.”

 

_Rosie, what do you do to yourself?_

 

“I want different pajamas, though.”

“Done. By the end of the week, there are gonna be pajamas of _you_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a day early but the last chapter was pretty short, so I figured, what the hell ;) I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think c:


	15. Dude, you did create Skynet!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rose gets an apartment and meets parts of the gang she doesn't know and Bruce earns 100 house points for his curry.

A week later, Clint gave her a piggyback ride into her new apartment. Now, he didn’t have to do that (she was perfectly capable of walking and Bruce had finally let her out of the medbay, even though she had to solemnly swear to check in with him twice a day; Rose accepted and kept the Harry Potter joke to herself). Either way, Clint gave her a piggyback ride to say sorry for breaking into her apartment (“Which is a shithole, by the way, there was barely any wall behind that mold, kid.”). Pepper took it upon herself to cancel her lease and deal with all the financial trouble. The redhead hadn’t answered any questions about how much trouble it had been. (“Consider it a hiring bonus. You get better and let me deal with this.”)

 

She liked the residential floors much better than the floors she had seen the first time she came here; while the labs and conference rooms seemed to be too cold, the residential floors made her feel like she was in a fancy hotel. There were three residential floors, Rose was told—she was on one floor with Bruce, Steve and Vision. Clint, Nat and the Maximoffs shared another floor. The third was occupied by Thor if he was around—other than that, astrophysicist Jane Foster (who was also Thor’s girlfriend, apparently—Rose didn’t know who to high five for that, they were both an outrageous mix of hot and adorable) and her assistant Darcy Lewis lived on that floor. Stark and Pepper lived in the penthouse and Rose was informed that another new guy, Sam Wilson, was going to move in within the week—probably also onto her floor. Clint had complained about not being on the same floor as her, but Steve insisted she was separated from the archer. Brilliant strategist that he was, he had seen that such an arrangement could only result in disaster, as they needed a proper buffer between them (Nat apparently didn’t count, which was a sin in itself).

 

“Alright there, okay.” Clint let her down in front of her door, gesturing at the hand-scan that was required for her to get in. “So, put your hand here—“ she followed his instructions and immediately the door opened.

 

“ _Holy shit_.”

 

The apartment was gigantic. Rose completely zoned out on the idle chatter of Clint, who said something about telling Tony she didn’t need a second bedroom, but Stark never listened. It was quite modernly furnished, complicated patterns of grey and light purple swirled along one side of the wall of the hallway, where several pairs of shoes were neatly stacked in a shoe closet, easy to grab (some were hers, some were obviously new). A giant mirror was next to a coat stand. Rose walked ahead into the living room, which was a wide open space that consisted of a giant tv, a hi-fi equipment, two large couches and two equally as comfortable looking chairs. Rose and Clint both liked purple, so the living room was decorated in shades of purple and grey, with a hint of white here and there. There was no door separating the living room and the kitchen, that seemed to be perfectly equipped and equally as beautiful (How had Pepper known she loved open spaces?).

 

Quick inspection lead to a count of two bedrooms (one larger and one smaller), one huge bathroom (bathtub _and_ shower), living space and a kitchen area. Rose ended up in the bigger bedroom, sitting down on the comfortable grey duvet. Clint had stopped talking half-way through and he was now leaning against the wall opposite from her, looking at her thoughtfully. “How did you even do this?” she muttered, looking up. Rose, similarly to Clint, never grew up with such luxury. Her old apartment had fit in here thrice.

 

The archer shrugged. “You’ll get used to it, I think. I did. ‘S just weird, right? One day you turn every penny around twice and next day you’re—“ he made a vague gesture around the room. She understood perfectly.

 

“Do you wanna be alone a little? Dinner’s not for a few hours. Banner, Stark and Pepper are cooking tonight—we take turns, Darcy made us. Darcy Lewis, I told you about Foster’s assistant, right?” Rose nodded.

 

“Yeah, so, we haven’t put you in groups yet, but you can pick. Nat, Rogers and I usually make dinner. Thor, Foster and Lewis are another trio. You can join us, if you like—but there’s still the Maximoffs and Vision to think of, so—I don’t know. Whatever you want.”

 

She was a pretty good cook, so Rose didn’t really worry about that—it was still a lot to get used to. “I guess I’ll ask at dinner—I’m just a bit, you know. Overwhelmed.”

 

Clint nodded knowingly, smiling at her before he bounced off the wall. He awkwardly petted her head before leaving as quietly as he came.

 

Rose remained seated for a moment, before she got up again and went through the drawers. She found some of her own clothes, but a bunch of new ones—dresses, shorts, skirts, long jeans, a whole bunch of T-Shirts and loosely knit jumpers. She let her fingers run over the fabric and found it to be high quality. There were no tags left for her to determine how much all of that had cost. She didn’t want to know, really.

 

She went back to the living room and found her old CD’s stuffed neatly under the cupboard that held the hi-fi stereo on top. Knowing Stark, that all was probably useless, since she could just ask the AI of choice (FRIDAY, as she had been told) to play anything. But Rose was glad that they were still there. She found her books in a neat bookshelf next to the TV. The two empty layers in the shelf had all of her pictures. One of her parents, one of herself with Erik and Charles, one with Charles only, one with her and Clint and another one with her, Clint and Natasha.

 

A quiet _ding_ sounded through the room and Rose flinched.

 

“Hello, Miss Kapoor. My name is FRIDAY and I am here to assist you within the Stark Tower. It is required for all new residents to establish protocol regarding security. Would it be alright if we did so now?”

 

Rose was glad that FRIDAY hadn’t accessed her mind at all—it only then occurred to her that maybe this AI couldn’t. “Sure, might as well.”

 

“Thank you, Miss Kapoor. Currently, only you have access to your living quarters. Some residents allow for certain other residents to enter without needing explicit permission. Would you like to allow for that as well?”

Rose blinked. “You may need to clarify—explicit permission?”

  
“Certainly, Miss Kapoor. If someone intends on entering your quarters, you will be informed by me and are able to accept or decline. Would you like to give certain residents constant access?”

 

“I’d rather not, actually. I prefer to be asked. Does anyone even do that?”

 

“I’m afraid I am not at liberty to say. Next on, Miss Kapoor, you are always able to evoke privacy protocols. I usually observe via audio and video and am capable of interacting with you. A privacy protocol will cut any and all video and audio feeds and the possibility of interaction. Would you be interested in such a protocol?”

 

“You observe? Where do those feeds go?”

 

“They are not saved in any manner, unless explicitly ordered and allowed by all people on the feed—or in case something illegal or dangerous is happening. These feeds are merely there for me to ensure the safety of all residents. I monitor someone’s heart rate, for example.”

 

That made more sense—it didn’t quite set Rose at ease, though. She wondered how Natasha dealt with it.

  
“Yes, I’d like the options of privacy protocols.”

 

“Certainly. I will need a name for the protocol as well as a password and any and all specifications you would want for it.”

 

“Cut audio and video. You can measure my heart rate and all that to ensure physical safety. Let’s call it Privacy Protocol X1. Password is Charles Erik Brooklyn.”

 

“Confirmed. In case of physical harm, who do you allow access to your quarters?”

 

“Physical harm?”

 

“Yes, Miss Kapoor. In case of nightmares or you experiencing any physical or mental harm, who do you allow access to your quarters? Who would you like for me to contact?”

 

“Contact Barton, Romanoff, Vision, Rogers. In that order. All of them have access in that case. Barton and Romanoff are allowed to override my wishes if I am unable to or unreliable, but they need to be in agreement.”

 

“Certainly, Miss Kapoor. Are there any specific news you want to be made aware of when you wake up?”

 

That confused her. “What?”

 

“Sir likes to hear weather, wind speed. Miss Potts wants her messages recited. Would you like a service like that?”

 

For someone with her brain, it was unnecessary. “No, thank you. FRIDAY, are you aware of my powers?”

 

“I am aware of everyone’s powers, Miss Kapoor.”

 

“So you are aware that you could basically attempt to hack my brain.”

 

“I have been informed, Miss Kapoor.”

 

“Don’t ever do that. I will not respond kindly to it.”

 

“I won’t, Miss Kapoor.”

* * *

 

After a shower and a careful rub over her skin with the _expensive as sin_ body butter that was presented in her bathroom, Rose changed into tight jeans, a purple Hawkeye T-Shirt and her glasses and followed FRIDAY’s patient instructions into the common area. ( _God_ , had she missed her glasses. She tended to get headaches without them.)

 

The common area was right below all resident floors and consisted of a giant living/party room that basically held several TV’s, every video game console ever made and a huge kitchen/dining area.

 

She was greeted by a wave of Indian spices that made her heart ache for her father even after all these years. It was loud in the dining room area—people were chatting idly. Only Bruce, Pepper and Tony were working—Bruce was manning the stove, Pepper was expertly tasting salad and cutting up bread and Tony had a robot called… _Butterfingers?_ place plates on the dining table under careful instructions. Considering the fact that another robot was carefully removing pieces of ceramic off the floor with its head (?) hanging low, that hadn’t worked out so well.

 

“Ah, there you are!” Natasha, who was sitting on the counter exclaimed—Clint was leaning next to her, his hand placed on her knee. “Yep, here I am. Had a little chat with FRIDAY, sorry. Am I late?”

 

Bruce turned from the stove—he smiled kindly at her, his glasses pushed up to his hairline to keep the glass from steaming up. “No, you are right on time. I hope you don’t mind; I usually cook Indian. Don’t judge too harshly.”

 

She smiled at the doctor, patting Clint’s arm as she passed and walked around the kitchen island to peek at the pots. It seemed like basic curry and rice, but from the scent of it, Rose was certain it was going to be delicious. “No, why would I mind? It smells amazing, Doc.” Bruce gushed at the compliment and went through the drawers to find a spoon, muttering to himself about someone always moving the silverware. He took the spoon that Pepper held to him with a smile and placed it in Rose’s hand, waving for her to taste. She did so, rolling her eyes over as the spices exploded on her tongue. “Jesus, that’s unreal. Ten points for Hufflepuff, Doc. No, you know what, 100 points for Hufflepuff. This is everything to me. That pot over there is mine.”

 

She pointed at the biggest one. Bruce blushed and muttered a quiet thank you. “Where’s the dish washer?” she asked and Pepper pointed next to her. Rose put the spoon in there, saying hello to the CEO in the process. She was outrageously pretty in comfortable sweat pants and an Iron Maiden Shirt that Rose was certain belonged to Tony. “Thank you for—the apartment. The clothes. The skin stuff. Thank you.” Pepper smiled. “No need to thank me. You did amazing things, so you deserve amazing things.” Rose didn’t answer, she merely asked whether she could help—Pepper ushered her away from the working area, saying that her time would come soon enough.

 

So, Rose retreated to the dining area. “A’ight, kids, meet Rose. And by kids I mean Foster and Lewis, everyone else knows her.” Two women looked up, one small, skinny and wearing plaid and the other with full hips and lipstick so red it reminded Rose why she swung both ways (or rather _all_ the ways, because fuck the gender binary). “Hey there, I’m Darcy!” the woman with red lips said, jumping up from her seat and full-body-hugging Rose hello. “That one over there is Jane. Don’t be offended if she doesn’t speak, she’s sciencing in her brain most of the time. Unless she’s sexing Thor.”

 

“ _Darcy_!” Jane blushed red and Thor, who was sitting next to her, laughed so loud it rang in her ears.

 

Rose grinned, returning Darcy’s hug with a little squeeze, before she let go and waved hello to Jane.

 

“So, Clint says you can speak to my Ipod.” Rose looked back at Darcy, blinking.

 

“I mean… technically I can make your Ipod do things. It doesn’t really answer, it’s not sentient.”  

 

Darcy puckered her full lips. “Like Ultron?”

 

Rose made a face. “Yeah, don’t remind me. I’m glad that fucker’s gone.”

 

Clint barked a laugh.

 

“Hey, Stark? Next time you make an AI, make sure he’s not such a dick.” Rose added towards the dining area, where Stark rolled his eyes.

 

“You make it sound like I created Skynet.”

 

“Dude, you _did_ create Skynet!” Rose and Darcy called out in synchronization, before giggling.

 

“We _so_ have to watch Terminator this Sunday.” Darcy decided.

 

“Sunday?”

 

“Yeah! Sunday is Avengers movie night. I organize it. You can send in your preferences and I’ll pick a movie that you’ll like.” Darcy seemed awful proud of her movie picking skills, so Rose decided she’d give it a try one of these days.

 

The elevator opened again and both Maximoffs as well as Vision stepped of it—Wanda and Pietro looked healthier than they had the last time. Wanda had visited Rose in her room often enough and Pietro had peeked in to say hello several times. She was certain they were going to have a conversation about mutants and abilities soon—Rose wasn’t sure how she felt about it, though. Vision looked fine—he was still red and certainly not human looking, which definitely didn’t help the fact that the simple jeans and shirt he wore looked unbelievably out of place, but he was trying.

 

She could see his face light up as he saw her, though. “Hey stranger.” Rose greeted and Vision responded with a kind smile.

  
“Rose.” Her name sounded like a compliment from the way he said it and the woman grinned.

 

“Vision. I wish you had been allowed to visit me.”

 

“Me too, friend. I must say that I have missed our connection. It felt—lonely.”

 

“The connection was lonely?” She knew what he meant, yet it was in her nature to tease him.

  
“No, being out of symbiosis. It felt very natural to me.” Sarcasm apparently went over his head. Vision had approached her now, standing too far away—he didn’t have a hang of social customs yet, Rose assumed.

 

“I missed you too, bud. How do you feel about hugs?”

 

That question certainly threw him off guard—he seemed confused at the suggestion, blinking as if he was processing the possibility. “I am not certain how I feel about hugs, actually.”

 

“Wanna try?”

 

Again, Vision thought about it for a while, before he nodded. Rose took a few steps closer, carefully wrapping her arms around his shoulders. She needed to stand on her tippy toes to place her chin on his shoulder, but she managed. Ever so slowly, Vision wrapped his arms around her. Rose gave him a light squeeze and he squeezed back even lighter. After a moment, she let go and he followed suit. “So? Thoughts?”

 

Vision smiled. “I find hugs to be very enjoyable.”

 

Rose grinned, raising her hand for a high-five. “Awesome!”

 

He stared at her hand, unsure of what to do—Rose nudged his foot with hers. “It’s a high five.”

 

She could see the exact moment Vision entered the net to look at ways to properly high-five. After a moment, he carefully extended his hand and slapped it slightly against hers, loud enough to make a sound. He looked at his own hand then. “I do not understand the reasoning of this motion. I understand that it is a custom, but it… it makes no sense.”

 

Rose nodded. “Yup, I know. Humans, right?” She grinned, nudging him slightly with her elbow. Vision felt a bit more at ease after that, Rose could see the tension disappearing from his shoulders.

 

“Yes— _Humans_.” Vision’s tone clearly stated that he was trying this sarcasm thing for the first time. Rose thought it was hilarious.

 

When she turned around, Rose found Darcy to be chatting with Pietro (or rather, Pietro was flirting and Darcy looked unbelievably amused by his smoothness. She also looked incredibly unaffected.) Wanda was standing close to both Vision and her, so Rose smiled at the younger girl. “Hey, you. Clint brought all my nail polish over.” Wanda smiled awkwardly, before she nodded. “I’ll do yours and you’ll do mine.” the younger girl suggested and Rose nodded. “Done-zo. Where’s Steve?”

 

Nat pointed at the floor. “Picking up his buddy Sam from the airport. I don’t think they’ll make it. You know Sam Wilson? He’s going to be on your floor too.”

 

Rose nodded. “Yeah, I remember. The guy who has metal wings. Kinda weird, but also hella awesome.”

 

Clint groaned. “ _Hella_? You’re thirty-something, kid, stop using those words.”

 

“And here you are, still calling me kid.”

  
“Because you’re acting like a kid.”

 

“Dude, you once filled my underwear drawer with glitter and DVD’s of gay porn.”

 

“Yes, because you cock-blocked me in Madrid!”

 

“That chick was a disaster in the making, Clint. I did you a favor!”

 

“You did it to amuse Lehnsherr and Xavier and you know it!”

 

Natasha reached out and punched Clint in the arm—the man looked at her in utter confusion for a second, before turning to Rose. His face was clearly apologetic.

 

She shook it off, smiling a little thinly. “It’s okay. I’m not going to spontaneously burst into tears because you acknowledge their existence. I’m fine.”

 

Clint returned her smile, but he seemed wary nonetheless. “Okay, kid. Whatever you say.”

 

Rose didn’t answer. What was that phrase again? Fake it till you make it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter up! I'm going to try to keep my schedule going, but uni has been really tiring lately, so there may be a wait for you guys after the next chapter. I'm sorry, but I'll try my very best!


	16. Wow, talk about being a buzzkill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rose gets her ass kicked by the Black Widow, everyone loves Sam Wilson and Clint is not a fan of Magneto.

Dinner was okay—there was chatter all across the dinner table. Rose sat between Darcy and Clint, mostly nodding and smiling along to the conversation. Vision was across from her. Sometimes, he would ask her questions in her head and Rose would mouth the answers to him—only Wanda knew what they were doing. She didn’t mind.

 

Rose stayed with Thor, Darcy and Jane to clean up afterwards (one group always cooked, another cleaned—there was a schedule, as Darcy had explained, and Rose was going to be put on it asap), manning the cleanup of leftovers. Thor was on drying and putting away duty, since he was by far the tallest out of the four of them.

 

Rose declined the offer of a card game, claiming that she was simply too tired to do anything productive, but she promised to help Darcy cheat tomorrow. She excused herself and went back to the elevator, riding up to her floor. Clint had offered to come with, an expression of worry on his face, but Natasha had kept him next to her around the table with a hand on his arm. Nat always seemed to know when Rose needed her space. Hell, Nat always seemed to know everything.

 

The elevator _ding_ -ed and Rose stepped off, expecting to find an empty hallway, yet promptly running into a wall. She tumbled backwards, holding her hand against her aching nose—a hand reached out to keep her steady, stop her from falling. She only then realized that she hadn’t run into a wall, but a person. Super Soldier muscles were officially dangerous as _fuck_. “I am _so_ sorry, I wasn’t paying attention—“ Steve looked at her frantically and Rose took her hand off her face, sighing in relief as she saw no blood on her hand. Hell, that would’ve been embarrassing.

 

“I just came out of the med bay, man, you don’t have to put me back there to draw me like one of your French girls again.”

 

Rose blinked away the tears in the corners of her eyes, shaking her head. Steve looked utterly petrified—the friend next to him was laughing tears. His friend was tall, black, broadly built and still lean—he had a smile that Rose just _knew_ thousands of men and women would fall for. “Who’s your obligatory hot friend?” Rose asked towards Steve and the blonde male looked over to his friend, who laughed even harder.

 

He then extended one hand, shoulders still moving with silent chuckles. “Sam Wilson, pleased to meet you. And _thanks_. Most people think that Cap’s my obligatory hot friend.”

 

Rose took his hand, smiling. “Nah, Steve’s the obligatory nice friend. You know, rescues cats, brings down fascist regimes. That whole deal. Rose Kapoor. So you’re the Falcon?”

 

“You two know I’m here, right?” Steve had crossed his arms, obviously attempting to put on an _angry Cap face_ , but failing miserably. The corners of his mouth ticked upwards dangerously.  _Was Captain America amused?_

“Uh-huh, we know you’re here, Steve. But, yes, I’m the Falcon. So you’re the one that was in medical for all those weeks, right? I saw you once when you were sleeping; picked Cap up from watching you. I’m glad you’re doing better.”

 

Rose smiled. “Thanks. I’m glad too. Where’s your apartment gonna be? Mine’s that one.” She pointed at the end of the hallway. Her apartment was the last one along the hall.

 

“Right across from you, next to Cap.”

 

“Well, then—it’s nice to meet you, neighbor.”

 

Sam smiled at her and Rose turned back to Steve. “Everyone’s done eating already, but we packed away some leftovers for you guys, if you’re hungry. I think they’re still playing cards, too, if you’re craving company.”

 

Steve’s face brightened up at the mention of food, but Sam padded his friend on the back and the blonde came back to himself. “No thanks, maybe later. We’re still carrying some of Sam’s boxes up here—maybe after. You’re not craving company?”

 

Rose shrugged. “No, not really. I mean, I don’t mind company, it’s just—overwhelming to have _everyone_ there.”

 

Steve nodded knowingly. “I know. I can do it for two hours, maybe, but after that I just need a break.”

 

“I’m thinking we’ll be the same when it comes to that, Cap. You guys need help with the boxes? I don’t really have any plans.”

 

Steve was already raising his hands to claim that they were fine, but Sam shrugged. “Sure, if you’re offering.”

 

He didn’t tell her that there were some boxes that were lighter than others. He also didn’t tell her that she could carry the small stuff.

 

Rose decided that Sam Wilson was a good man in that moment.

* * *

 

Truth was, they didn’t need her help. It only took two more rides down and Steve carried most of the stuff, because super soldier, _duh_. But Rose carried with both of them and soon they were sitting on the floor of Sam’s living room, Rose’s naked toes buried in the surprisingly fluffy carpet.

 

“You want a beer?” Sam called from the kitchen and Rose froze up. “No—no, thanks.”

 

“Water?” Rose turned around to nod at the man, tension flying out of her shoulders—he could see her from the kitchen. Sam smiled and pulled a bottle of water and two bottles of beer out of the fridge, coming back to the living room and taking a seat on the carpet as well. Steve was sitting there too, leaning against the wall. “Where’s your furniture?” Rose asked towards Sam, taking the water with a thankful nod.

 

Sam sighed as he sat down, opening his own bottle swiftly. “That’s coming tomorrow. Stark offered to furnish everything, but I don’t wanna throw out my stuff. It was expensive to buy.”

 

She understood that. “Isn’t it weird?” she muttered, taking a sip of her water.

 

Steve looked up. “Is what weird?”

 

“Just—being here. My old apartment fits in here thrice and I could barely afford that. Now I just get all this stuff for no reason. Makes me tingly all over and not in the fun way.” She took another sip.

 

Sam nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, girl, I know what you’re sayin’. Don’t wanna take shit for free, not even from your friends.”

 

Steve leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “When I first got here, I made more in a week than I used to in a year. Stark gave me all these things for free; it was hard to get used to it. He means well, though. It’s the only way he can show he cares.”

 

Rose had figured as much. Tony Stark didn’t seem to be the kind of person who was good with words; he was eloquent and spoke sarcasm fluently, but when it was about being serious and genuine, he didn’t seem to know how to deal with that. But hey, who was she to judge? Pot, meet kettle.

 

“He wants me to work for him.” Rose muttered and Sam looked up—from the way he held himself, she got the feeling that he was used to having these kinds of conversations.

 

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Sam asked gently and Rose sighed—she placed her right hand on the carpet, running her fingers over the soft surface.

 

“I guess so. I’m just scared I’ll end up being used again.” She looked up. “I didn’t have a good experience when I first worked with S.H.I.E.L.D.”

 

Interest sparked in Sam’s eyes and there was something in the way he looked at her that made her feel at ease. Steve said nothing, he merely leaned forward more—there was no curiosity in his eyes. Only kindness.

  
“Did you talk to anyone about that experience?” Sam asked carefully and Rose shook her head.

 

“No. Who would I tell that a secret government organization used my crazy computer superpowers when I was too young to know what was going on and got my telepath boyfriend killed? It’s just—“ she sighed. “I don’t know. I’m fine, though. Don’t worry.”

 

Sam looked like he wanted to say something, yet he refrained from doing so. Steve looked like she had punched him in the gut.

 

“Wow, talk about being a buzzkill. That’s my cue then, boys. See you tomorrow?”

 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to leave—“ Steve began, but Rose was already on her feet.

 

“No, no, don’t worry. I’m not mad or sad or anything. It’s just late and I want to get up early tomorrow, you know. Get a feel for everything before Stark has me make his coffee. Or before he makes me build Skynet again. I don’t even know what I’m gonna do with this guy.”

 

Steve unfolded from the floor (he was so tall, she wondered how the hell he even fit into car seats) and walked her to the door. She waved Sam goodnight and padded Steve’s forearm, before she walked across the hall and into her apartment.

 

Changed into Thor themed pajamas (the shorts had tiny versions of his hammer all over them), she dropped into the ridiculously soft bed. Rose thought she’d have trouble falling asleep.

 

She was asleep five minutes after her head hit the pillow.

 

 

* * *

“Good morning, Miss Kapoor. As requested, this is your six am wake up call.”

 

Rose jolted awake, her heart beating erratically against her ribcage as confusion clouded her judgment. She looked around, fingers grasping into the too soft sheets—it took her a moment to remember where she was.

 

“Miss Kapoor, your heart rate is too high. Would you like for me to call for Mr. Barton or Doctor Banner?”

 

Did she want to scare Clint or Bruce on her first morning? _Hell_ _no_. She was a grown ass woman, damn it, a little bit of confusion wasn’t worth waking those two up. “No, thank you. I was merely confused.” She took deep breaths, willing her heart rate to go down—after a few moments, it was.

 

Going back to sleep wasn’t really what she wanted to do this morning, even though the temptation of the warm bed was almost irresistible. Rose reminded herself that she hadn’t done anything but lay around for weeks; Also, she knew Natasha would come check in on her if she slept in. That was the last thing she wanted.

 

So, Rose got out of bed and put on a set of workout clothes that she found in one of the many drawers in her closet. It was grey, black and purple, matching the suit that had been made for her. The tank top was a bit too tight, accentuating the swell of her belly that she could _swear_ had been smaller before this mess; But Rose found herself liking the fullness of her hips that came with it. Her fingers traced the lighter stretch marks just above the waistband of her pants, before she bent down to get socks and trainers.

 

The gym floor was below the common floor; FRIDAY gave her a quick rundown of the options. There was an indoor swimming pool, a big area that was used for training exercises (spy training, Rose assumed) as well as a separate part of the floor that was filled with every exercise tool ever invented (FRIDAY had started listing them all—Rose had cut the AI off after the tenth appliance). There was a shooting range in one of the lower floors (some accident involving Clint, Rose wasn’t surprised).

 

Rose wasn’t inexperienced enough to believe that she’d be alone. Given the early time, though, she only saw four people in the gym—Natasha and Bruce were doing yoga, Clint was lifting weights and Steve was attacking a punching bag.

 

“Good morning.” She muttered, letting out a jaw-cracking yawn as she walked ahead, unsure of where to start. “Stretch.” Natasha ordered calmly and Rose shivered at the cold tone of the redhead’s words—this morning was going to be hell and Rose knew it. She remembered the promise Natasha made when she had still been in the med bay. _I will make you strong._

 

Oh yeah. And it was gonna hurt like a bitch.

 

Obeying without a word, Rose went ahead and grabbed a mat from the sides, taking a spot farther away from the rest of the group, going through the stretches that Natasha had engrained in her brain years ago. Nat meanwhile was still calmly going from downward dog to snake, folding and unfolding herself in a tempo that should be straining or tiring, yet her body didn’t glisten with sweat the way Bruce's body did.

 

She stretched for quite some time, feeling the pleasant pull of muscle. It was painful, right on the edge, but Rose couldn’t claim that she didn’t like it. After a long time of bed rest, she craved movement. _Tomorrow_ , she promised herself _, I’ll go for a run_.

 

She didn’t see the first hit coming—when Natasha’s foot connected with Rose’s side, the dark haired woman gasped, rolling out of the way with strength she didn’t know she had. Pain radiated from the point of impact, but Rose knew that Nat had taken it easy. A few centimeters lower and Rose would have issues with her kidney. Rose scrambled to get on her feet and she heard Clint bark Natasha’s name in anger, but both he and Rose knew better. Nat wouldn’t stand down. There was fury in her eyes and Rose felt bad for scaring her.

 

There were no words, no warnings. She would later be surprised to find that the others didn’t leave, but at this moment, there were only two people on this planet for her. Focus was everything she had, focus was her friend. Rage was effective, strong, fast, but it didn’t work out the way it was supposed to most of the time. Focus was better. It was _stronger_.

 

Back in the day, a point had been made that the X-Men had to be able to protect themselves given the situation that their powers were not of use. All of them learned how to use basic weaponry, Erik and her had combat practice (Charles couldn’t, wheelchair and all, but he had always been there anyway). Rose hadn’t forgotten what she learned, not really. Muscle memory was a powerful thing. People claim that one can never forget how to ride a bike and Natasha had told her that the body never forgot how to fight, either. Back in the day. Nat’s hair had been longer and they both had been younger and there was no rage in her bones to lead her on the wrong way. _Your body will remember; it will be a natural reaction soon._ Nat had said after every session, leaving Rose with blooming and fading bruises all over her body. But Natasha hadn’t lied.

 

Her body remembered now, too. It was like riding a bike.

 

But just because you can remember, doesn’t mean you’re good at it.

 

She didn’t hold her own. Rose wanted to claim that she wasn’t half-bad, that she had been worse, but the truth was simple: She got her ass kicked.

 

After mere twenty minutes, she was laying across the gym floor, breathing deeply in and out, pain radiating from every part of her body. She remembered that, too. “Holy shit. I’m _sorry_ , Nat.” She had been apologizing the entire time—sorry for getting hurt, sorry for being out so long, sorry for being so bad at this. Nat hadn’t said a word, just kept on punching and kicking and throwing and causing pain.

 

The red head appeared in her vision, her eyes not quite as cold as they had been before. “You are a _joke_ , milaya. I taught you better. You used to be much better at this.”

 

A hand extended and Rose took it, scrambling to get back on her feet. “Yeah, I used to be twenty. And training, like, all the time. You don’t want to know when was the last time I saw a gym from the inside.”

 

Nat snorted in disgust. “Tomorrow, we will start at five. Be ready. Now, stretch again.”

 

It took Rose every ounce of will to not say something along the lines of _Yes, mom_. She was proud that she didn’t.

 

She just noticed then that Natasha had hunted her all across the gym—the mat she had first stretched on was on the other side of the gym now. Bruce had disappeared into thin air, probably avoiding any and all fights. Clint had grabbed Natasha’s upper arm, muttering something into her ear. He looked pissed. Steve however looked—she couldn’t really describe it. Was it fear? Was it concern? Was it pride? It could have been all three.

 

She held her head up high as she walked back to her mat, willing herself to stretch sore muscles. She’d have bruises all over tomorrow, she just knew it, but no pain no gain. A memory of Erik and her getting their first training together came to mind—they had been both helplessly, hopelessly bad at this. Erik had punched with anger and no precision and Rose had been reluctant to physically hurt another being.

 

_Now look at us_ , she thought grimly-- thinking of Erik, though, it reminded her of the time in the med bay. Had he really been there? She needed to ask Clint about this.

 

By the time she was done, Steve was unwrapping white pieces of tape from his hands, looking at her as he walked over. “Are you alright? Romanoff went pretty hard on you there. Barton said it’s normal, but—“ Steve frowned, his eyes wandering up and down her body in a way that would be uncomfortable if there wasn’t worry instead of lust in his eyes. That was a new one for Rose, certainly.

“It’s okay. I’m fine. Nat goes hard on me because I got hurt. She doesn’t deal well with that.”

 

Steve nodded thoughtfully and he bent down to roll up her mat for her. With a smile, he led her out of the gym, placing the mat back to where it belonged as they passed the staple along the wall. The mats were all either red, gold or green. _Stark didn’t really do subtle, did he?_

 

“I was wondering if we could speak sometime, you and I.” Steve suddenly suggested, looking down at her—she found worry in his gaze, for whatever reason.

  
“Okay? Sure. Is everything alright?”

 

“Yes, everything is just fine. We just didn’t have any time to talk about—Sokovia. And I want to do that, get a feel for—well, _you_. I know Stark hired you and I’m sure that you’re going to be a good addition to the team, but—“ Steve chewed on his lower lip and Rose wondered how the hell his lips could be so red without some kind of lipstick.

 

“You want to know how I roll, right? There aren’t enough files and you think everything Clint tells you is biased, because we’re friends.”

 

Steve nodded. “Yes. I hope you won’t take this personally.”

 

“No. You’re protecting your friends. I get that. Tonight?”

 

He thought about that for a moment. “Tonight. I will come by your apartment after dinner.” Steve stopped himself from adding something else. He nudged the button for the elevator, immediately getting in as the door opened and üushing the button that was for their floor.

 

“Will you bring something when you come over?” Rose suddenly asked and Steve looked down at her.

 

“Sure.”

 

“The pictures you drew of me in the hospital. If you’re okay with showing them, I kind of want to see them.”

 

He blushed, immediately assuming that she thought he drew something inappropriate ( _which I didn’t, Barton, the poor woman is unconscious what do you think?_ ) but Rose shook her head when she saw the conflict in his eyes. “You don’t have to show me. I don’t think you drew nudes of me, I just thought that it might be nice to see my face like that.”

 

She smiled and stepped off the elevator, heading back to her apartment, leaving a relieved Steve Rogers in her wake.

* * *

 

She showered, changed her clothes and went for breakfast after. The commons were pretty open, people coming and leaving all the time, so Rose wasn’t surprised to see several of her roommates ( _shit_ , they were her _roommates_ ) hanging out. Rogers was standing with his back to her, flipping pancakes by the dozen. Darcy was next to him, putting stacks of sandwiches together, muttering about _stupid scientists that can break time and space but not eat like normal people_ before she took her creations and rushed out to the elevator, yelling _Good Morning_ at Rose as she passed.

 

Clint was making coffee and at the sight of her, he poured her a second cup. Natasha was nowhere to be seen, which was odd—Clint and her were joined at the hip. She barely ever saw them apart. Sam Wilson was shoveling scrambled eggs into his mouth, looking so tired Rose was unsure of how he managed to get the fork _into_ his mouth every time. Rose smiled to them, sitting down next to Sam, taking the coffee from Clint with a _thanks_.

 

She sipped in it, adding milk and sugar after and then took a real gulp. _Holy shit_ , that was good. She wasn’t much of a breakfast girl, usually downing a cup of coffee and a piece of dry toast, but she felt _hungry_ now. And bruised. And definitely _hungry_. But first, she had to finish this cup.

 

“Clint?”

 

The archer turned around from the pancake he had stolen form Steve’s pile—the pancake was rolled like a newspaper between his fingers and he was chewing away on it. “Mhm?”

 

“When I was in the med bay, were you there all the time?”

 

Clint swallowed, looking at Steve for a moment. Both men turned their attention to her.

 

“Well, not _always_. I was gone to shower sometimes, get coffee, take a walk. But you were never fully alone—I think.” Clint’s brows furrowed and he placed the half-eaten pancake back on Steve’s pile. _Ew_. _Manners, Barton._

 

“Why, are you alright?” Steve asked and Rose shrugged.

 

“No—I mean, yes, I’m okay. I just thought I saw something, but if I wasn’t alone ever, then it was probably a dream.”

 

Clint dried the oil off his hands with a towel and sat down in front of her.

 

“What did you see?”

 

Rose looked from Clint to Steve and back to Sam—maybe she should have asked this in a more private setting. “Rose.” There was an edge of warning in Clint’s voice and she looked back at the archer.

 

“I thought I saw—Erik. I seem to remember him being there. I was probably hallucinating.”

 

The mention of his name made Clint flinch and he leaned back, barking an order at FRIDAY to send Erik's file back to his computer.

 

“Clint—“ she started and the archer shook his head.

 

“ _No_ , kid. I know you think you’ve got Lehnsherr under control, but he did some fucked up stuff after Xavier’s death.”

 

“Is that what S.H.I.E.L.D. tells you?”

 

“Jesus Christ, Rose, _he killed the president of Chile_.”

 

“You got no proof!”

 

“The bullet curved!”

 

“He was a mutant!”

 

That shut Clint up and he leaned back. “Come again?”

 

“The president. He was a mutant. Erik wouldn’t have killed him.”

 

Clint snorted. “ _Sure_. I should have _known_ you were in contact.”

 

Rose shook her head. “We weren’t. We were never in contact, not after the funeral.”

 

“But you just _know_ all of that.”

 

“I kept tabs on him. I kept tabs on you, too. _Because I give a fuck about you assholes_.”

 

Clint ran a hand over his face. “What did he say when he came to you in the med bay?”

 

“He said that he’d come back for me.”

 

That didn’t set Clint Barton at ease whatsoever. “You know he’s dangerous, right? If he decides that he wants to hurt you—“

 

Rose’ eyes narrowed. “Yeah. But if you decide to put an arrow through my chest, could I stop you?”

 

Clint’s jaw ticked. “I wouldn’t hurt you. _Ever_.”

 

“Neither would he. We’re one and the same, Clint, that’s what you don’t understand. We were a lot of things back in the day, Erik and I, but we were never enemies. That’s not going to change. He came to see me when I was in the hospital. Any reasonable person might think this makes him a friend.”

 

Steve sighed and this was the first reaction that Rose saw him have. “How about we ignore that— _Erik_ came here and focus on how he infiltrated our tower without us realizing. FRIDAY should have stopped him, or at the very least made us aware.”

 

That in fact was interesting. How did he get in here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your kind comments, guys! I hope you like this chapter. Some rather fluffy ones are up ahead. c:


	17. But I can’t give up on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tony gives Rose a job and Steve fidgets a lot. Rose tells her story.

Tony Stark’s lab was _fucking awesome_.

 

The moment she entered, Rose wanted to do nothing more than lock herself up for a year or two and play with everything he had in here. No wonder he went on 48-hour science benders on the regular. The lab floor was basically parted in three, leaving one part of the lab for each of the Scientists Three (Tony, Bruce and Jane). Each part was separated by thick see-through walls, ensuring that no explosions would take over from one lab to the other two. As Rose was informed, explosions in Tony’s part of the lab were more than common.

 

Stark was fixing a busted up Iron Man suit, while three robots carefully cleaned up after him. One of them had a fire extinguisher between its claws. _Well this is reassuring_.

 

“Tony?” Rose asked and only then the man looked up, blinking several times. He stared at her, then at the clock, then back at her. “Hi. Morning, I guess. Is it morning? What day is it?”

 

“Thursday. It _is_ morning, actually. Did you spend the night here?”

 

A robot carefully rolled over, a glass of green juice within its claws, offering it to her. Rose smiled widely, taking the glass carefully. “Why thank you, aren’t you attentive?” Tony snorted, pointing at the robot that had offered her something to drink.

 

“What, Butterfingers? Not attentive, more like a giant pain in my ass.”

 

Rose took a sip of the drink, careful to not make a disgusted expression (it tasted _awful_ )—She placed it carefully on a table far away from Tony, padding the robot carefully on its… head? “No, that’s not true. Bringing me the drink was very nice, Butterfingers.” The robot made a delighted sound, before going about its way again.

 

Tony held out a wrench to her, waving it a bit. “Take this, come over here.” He then looked at her shirt, grinning as he found a comic drawing of the Hulk’s face with the words _Keep calm and SMASH!_ below. She quickly rushed to obey, taking the wrench. “What now?” Tony looked up. “Put it on the table out of the way and tell me what you see.”

 

Rose rolled her eyes, but she did it anyway, getting back to the man and carefully peeking into the machinery he was working on. It seemed to be the arm. “It’s an arm? From your suit?” Tony rolled his eyes, pointing at it. “Yeah, yeah, obviously. Can you make it move?”

 

Carefully, she reached out, finding the arm connected to the local AI. She hitched a ride on FRIDAY and got inside (very adamantly staying as far away from anything resembling symbiosis as possible), moving the arm carefully. She made it give Tony the middle finger. He snorted in amusement, adjusting something. “Try again.” She did, finding it marginally harder to do so. “It works, but not as well. The connection to FRIDAY is wonky like that.” Tony muttered for a moment, getting back to the original setting.

 

“So, you’re still walking.”

 

“What?”

 

He didn’t look up as he spoke, carefully adjusting pieces around the arm.

  
“I saw the security footage from the gym. Romanoff did a number on you.”

 

Rose shrugged. “Yeah, but it was my fault. I slacked in training in the time that I was gone. Also, I was out cold for like, two weeks. Scares the crap out of her.”

 

Tony nodded. “Did you know her before? I mean, you knew Barton, but did you know Romanoff?”

 

“A little. She trained us for a tiny bit, I went on a few missions with her. We weren’t the best of friends, but we get along. We get along better now than we used to, for sure.”

 

Tony made a sound that could mean literally a million different things.

 

After a few minutes of nothing, she sighed. “Are you going to have me stare at you working all day long or what is your plan here?”

 

He looked up at her and Rose was certain that he had entirely forgotten she was even there. “Oh, yeah. I had a job for you, actually. Something… You! Where did you put that file I put over there!”

 

The third robot _flinched_ as much as it was possible for a robot to flinch, whirring and turning in order to find the file. It was buried under three cups of what used to contain coffee (was that _mold_ in there? _Ew._ ). Tony snatched it out of the robot’s hand, grumbling before he placed it in Rose’s.

 

“There, I want you to do that.”

 

She opened the file and found one blank piece of paper with one word written on it. JARVIS.

 

“You know this kind of drama bullshit only works in Jennifer Aniston movies.” Rose muttered, turning the paper to Tony. He frowned. “I used to have more stuff in there… woops. Well, basically, fix JARVIS. Be JARVIS.”

 

“I’m not gonna remind you to sleep and order you dinner, Tony.”

 

He rolled his eyes. “No. I don’t want JARVIS back like that—I’d do it myself, if I did. It’d be weird with Vision and all that, though, Pepper says it’s rude. I just want you to take the security measures we had and make them better. You know, keep the tower safe, just like JARVIS did. Better than he did. Ultron ripped through my system in a second and you ripped through Ultron in a second. So, figure out how to do it and do it.”

 

“First of all, I took a beating from Ultron. A big one. Second, I don’t know how to write code. How am I supposed to do that?”

 

He shrugged. “I’ll teach you code, that’s no problem. My guess is, you’re gonna take it up better than most people ever will. Your brain-stuff can take care of the rest.” Tony wiggled his fingers against his forehead as he said that.

 

She shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. I can’t. It’s too much responsibility. What if something goes wrong?”

 

Tony shrugged. “Then it goes wrong and we fix it on the fly. Look, nothing is going to be perfect at the first try, but you— _we_ have an opportunity here. You are basically a walking, talking AI—no offense. You can protect this tower better than I ever could—better than JARVIS ever could. You’re human, but you’re more than human. You’re a machine, but you’re also more than that. Own it.”

 

That sounded like it made sense—which was enough to worry the woman. “How would I even get started?”

 

DUM-E rolled over, placing an old battered book in her lap. _C & C++ for dummies. _“That’s my old one. It’s how I got started. Figure it out, you can use that computer over there.” Tony pointed at the general direction to his right and Rose followed his instructions, willing the computer to turn on.

 

_Well, here goes nothing_.

 

* * *

The rest of her day was delightfully uneventful. She worked her way through the first few pages of the book Tony offered, proud of herself that she went through the two first chapters without asking Tony _once_. He had been entirely right, though—which was probably the reason why she didn’t want to talk to him. She sucked in the information like a sponge, carefully writing the code and doing the little exercises by hand, before she tried to make it happen with her mind. It gained her an entirely new perspective. She wasn’t going to code like a pro in a week, that was for sure, but if she could only gain an understanding of what she _could_ do to protect the tower—well, this was all worth something.

 

If anything, she was learning a new skill. Rose had no doubt that Charles would be proud as hell. He always thought she was selling herself short.

 

Dinner was a rather quiet endeavor this time— only Rose, Nat, Wanda, Pietro and Steve were even there. Nat said nothing to Rose during the entire preparation (Rose helped Wanda and Pietro make some Sokovian specialty, leaving Nat and Steve with cleanup). Silence spoke more than anything else for the redhead, which lead Rose to believe that Clint told her about Erik. She knew better than to ask where the archer was. She also knew better than to argue, truthfully—Rose understood their point of view completely. Nat and Clint were worried and rightfully so; To them, Erik was a threat. If push came to shove, Rose was certain Erik wouldn’t hesitate to hurt either one of them (he never got along with Clint or Nat to begin with). But that wasn't the point she made this morning. She had merely argued that Erik would never harm her- and that was something Rose was completely certain of.

 But things were different between Erik and her, they always had been. He was the most frustrating person she ever met—he was the lighter and she was a tank of gasoline. In the beginning, he had pushed her buttons as if he got paid for it for weeks, causing them to fight for the stupidest of all reasons. It had taken them forever to get along—they had developed an odd sort of friendship. Rose cared for Erik immensely, knowing that with the way things had been going, they would have quickly become more than friends. 

 

But then Charles died and with him the glue that kept them together.

 

She excused herself after dinner, going back to her room. Rose changed into sweatpants and a less tight T-Shirt. _Captain America is going to come over to talk to me. How is this even my life?_

 

Grabbing the one of the StarkPads that Tony had been handing out as _Welcome to the Tower_ presents, she mindlessly surfed through the internet, checking basics like the news. Clint had updated her on most of the things that happened while she had been sleeping; Thankfully, none of her pictures had hit the internet yet.  _Hell, if I’m going to do this, then people might know my face._

 

It was a strange thought for sure. With a sigh, she checked the Avengers tag on Twitter ( _Yes_ , she had a Twitter, but she barely tweeted ever), stopping as she saw a picture of Clint that some random person had posted just recently. _I’m gonna have to apologize, won’t I? Well, shit._

  
She wasn’t great at apologies especially when she was certain she was totally within her rights. But Clint was going to pout and things were going to get ugly soon. They’d talk it out.

 

“Miss Kapoor, Captain Rogers is requesting access to your apartment.”

 

She closed the tabs and turned off the StarkPad, getting up. “Let him in, FRIDAY. Thanks.”

 

“Very well, Miss Kapoor.”

 

Her door slid open, revealing a much more relaxed Steve Rogers. He too seemed to have changed into more comfortable clothing—his T-Shirt was still sinfully tight (as all of his were), but the pants looked nice. They weren’t sweat pants like hers, still jeans, but the material looked relatively comfortable. “Hey, come in.”

 

Steve smiled, stepping in only after she had invited him in clearly. “Hello. I’m not too early, am I?”

 

Rose shook her head, leading the way to the living room—she had learned that not all apartments looked the same (Sam’s and hers were quite different), so she didn’t know whether he’d even know where here living room was. Not that Steve Rogers would take the freedom to just walk into wherever.

 

She gestured into the general direction of the couch “Take a seat!”, before ushering off into the kitchen. The fridge was so full, Rose suspected it was about to burst soon. “What would you like to drink?” she called towards the living room—she couldn’t see Steve from here, but she imagined he was sitting on her couch, fidgeting. Steve Rogers seemed to do a lot of fidgeting in her presence. “Water is fine, thank you.”

 

Rose wasn’t about to argue, so she grabbed two bottles of water, kicked the fridge closed with her foot and strolled back to the living room. Steve took his bottle with a thankful smile and Rose sat down next to him, eventually giving up to turn and sit cross-legged on the couch. She wasn’t scared of him or of what he was going to ask. Hell, she was amused if anything. He looked more nervous than she did.

* * *

 

Steve _was_ nervous. Being along with a perfectly beautiful dame was enough to cause him to be on the edge of his seat every time. He was certainly not going to try anything, _obviously_ , but it still reminded him of the times where Bucky took out two girls, one for him and one for Steve—it hadn’t been quite acceptable for a young girl to go out with a fella on her own.

 

He fidgeted a moment, taking in the way she looked. She seemed comfortable, her grey sweat pants looked soft, her T-Shirt was purple and thankfully not tight enough to accentuate the body he knew she had underneath. Natasha had seen him look at her sometimes, in the Quinjet, causing the redhead to smile as though she knew his mind better than he did. _I’m 95, I’m not dead._

 

“Thank you for taking the time.” Politeness was always a good way to start, Steve figured.

 

Dimples deepened on her cheeks as she smiled. “Anytime, Steve.”

 

He cleared his throat, looking at the table for a moment. He had placed his sketchbook there, taking the pictures he had drawn of her with him the way she had requested. Steve hoped that Rose would not be offended—he’d argue that he drew people all the time, he probably had drawings of every Avenger somewhere. ( _You don’t draw twenty drawings of just anyone of your friends, punk_.)

 

She followed his gaze and a spark of mischief and genuine interest bloomed in her eyes. She reached her fingers out (black nails, he wondered why she always chose black) towards the book, a questioning look on her face. Steve nodded and with almost childish glee, she leaped forward, opening the book between her fingers, brushing through the pages. Her smile faded the longer she looked.

 

He had begun with careful sketches of her fingers, bent the way she always would when using her powers. He drew her hands when she made a fist, drew it when she reached out as if to catch someone, drew it when she pulled on his shirt to get his attention.

 

Moving on from her hands, he had focused on the shape of her full lips, the exact curl of her hair. There was a sketch of her kicking Clint as he tickled her feet. There was a sketch of her braiding her hair.

 

“Holy hell.” She muttered as she reached the end, looking up to him. Steve felt his face grew hot, cursing his Irish complexion inwardly. “I’m sorry, if these bother you. I’ll destroy them if they do—“ he began, shifting from one side of the other.

 

The woman merely shook her head. “No, these are _amazing_. Draw as much as you like. I didn’t know you were an artist. Fourth grade history didn’t cover that.”

 

Steve felt tension rush out of his shoulders, despite feeling uneasy about her statement. She knew about him, he didn’t know about her—it felt unfair to him, as if he was bent and broken in to accommodate the expectations of others.  “Thank you. It’s nothing, just a way to pass the time.”

 

“Hell of a way to pass the time. You could sell these, you know? I don’t know much about art, but there’s worse stuff being sold for millions out there.”

 

Steve smiled, then cleared his throat. He didn’t come to talk about his art. “We need to talk about Sokovia.”

 

The smile on her lips faded and Steve felt bad for being the cause of that, but what had to be done had to be done. She leaned over and handed the sketchbook back before crossing her arms defensively. “Okay. Let’s talk.”

  
“You deviated from the plan.”

 

“I did.”

 

“You put people in danger.”

 

“Uh-huh.”

 

“You don’t feel bad about that?”

 

Her answer took longer this time. There was a pouty streak to her lips and it took all his might to not grab the sketchbook and capture the aggressive curl of her cupid’s bow. “I feel bad that people were in danger, but that wasn’t my fault. We were trying to get rid of Ultron. They were in danger in the first place. I only changed the plan because the old plan didn’t apply anymore. You can’t tell me that you don’t believe in improvising in the battlefield.”

 

“True. But you did it without clearing it with your supervising officer.”

 

“Would you have let me do it?”

 

“No.”

 

“Well, then, here’s your answer.”

 

_Jesus Christ, why is this woman so stubborn?_ Steve wondered whether Bucky had felt like this with him.

 

“You know this isn’t how this works. You are supposed to listen to your superiors. Follow orders.”

 

There was something wild in her eyes as she leaned forward, a challenge in the way her eyebrow ticked upwards and Steve Rogers hadn’t felt the need to take a woman up on a challenge like this ever since Peggy Carter shot four bullets at his shield.

 

“Says the guy who tore down S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters after you found out that someone had been compromised. You ignored the orders of your superiors _and_ things turned out just fine. I did the exact same thing.”

 

“The keyword is _compromised_. I wasn’t compromised on Sokovia. Rose, these orders are in place to protect you.”

 

“Orders never protected me worth shit, Captain. _I_ protect myself. So don’t patronize me. You’re pissed because I didn’t jump when you told me to, but made a calculated decision based on what I know I could handle instead.”

 

Steve took a deep breath to refrain from yelling at her or swatting her over the head in a motion that he had learned from none other than Bucky Barnes.

 

“You _didn’t_ know what you could handle. Vision gave me a report. You said that you were unsure if you two could push Ultron out of symbiosis or not.”

 

She honest to God threw her hands up in exasperation. “ _Yes_! But you know why? Our plan was _always_ built upon Vision and me burning Ultron out from the internet to keep him from running. So, if, for an arguments’ sake, we hadn’t been able to do that—what would you have done? Change the plan, that’s what. If we hadn’t been able to push Ultron out of symbiosis, locking him out of the internet would have been an entirely fruitless endeavor as well. You see where I go with this? It would have made no difference whatsoever.”

 

“It’s not your _decision_.”

 

“Then who’s decision is it? My body, my powers, _my fucking right to put myself in danger_.”

 

Steve had to remind himself that he had a different opinion than her, because fuck if she didn’t make him rethink his entire view on the matter. He took a breath to make sure he wasn’t talking himself into a corner; he had a feeling that she’d never let him out there again. She glared at him over the black rims of her glasses and he wondered if telling her that he liked the way she looked with them would be inappropriate. _Probably_.

 

“That is obviously true. But you need to understand that in case we are on a mission, I require my team to follow the plan. We all have to stick to the things we agree on.”

 

She had to chew on that one for a while, he could see it. “Okay, but what use am I to you if you can’t trust me to make basic common sense decisions on the battlefield? I didn’t break the plan because I was—on an ego trip, or _something_. In case I am on a… _mission_ —“ she flinched, scrunching up her nose, as if the word mission bothered her. “you can generally trust that I’ll stick to the plan. But if the plan is useless, I can and I _will_ improvise. Isn’t that a good thing?”

 

Steve wondered how much of a hypocrite he would be if he told her _no, it isn’t, not if you put yourself in danger_. Probably a huge one. Bucky would have a word or two to say about that, too.

 

“Tell me about the X Men.”

 

Her face fell and for a second she glanced at the door, making him wonder what he’d do in case she decided to dart out the door and lock him in. It wasn’t like he hadn’t already attempted to figure it out for himself—information had come from Natasha and Clint, yet both of them had seemed reluctant to share. He hadn’t gotten much more than he knew in the first place anyway. Natasha had eventually told him to suck it up and ask Rose himself; He wondered whether the woman across from him would have preferred he got his information from a file and never mentioned it to her. From the way sorrow clouded her face, he was pretty sure she’d take that option any time.

  
“Can’t you just ask Clint to tell you?” Her voice wasn’t challenging anymore, dropping so low he was thankful for his super soldier hearing.

  
“I’d rather hear it from you.”

 

He wished he could tell her something, _anything_ that would make this easier—but the simple truth was that he wanted to know. _Needed_ to know. When she had burst out of Clint’s safe house just a second shy of jumping across the table and strangling Nick Fury then and there, Steve had wondered who had wronged her so bad. He had tried to get Fury to talk and as per usual, it had been impossible to get anything other than  _confidential_ from the man.

 

Her lower lip trembled for a moment and she turned her head away from him, her hand raising to nudge her glasses up her nose again, settling them comfortably on her face. They always seemed to slide down her nose, Steve had noticed. He’d ask Bruce whether the med bay could produce more fitted ones. He knew that nowadays people used contacts instead of glasses sometimes, but he hoped that Rose would stick to glasses. For whatever reason, he didn’t want to imagine her without them.

 

“I was twenty.” She began and Steve sat up even straighter than he already had, keeping his face carefully neutral. He needed to be Cap now, he needed to lock little Steve Rogers in a closet and let Cap do the talking.

  
“I didn’t go to college, because, no money and all that. Worked as a waitress, because it wasn’t as hard a job to get as others and people always need waitresses. I don’t know what I was going to do. I kept telling myself I’d find something, figure something out, but—I don’t know. There was just no direction—I was doing some evening classes. It was all I could afford. My powers were scary, too. I was afraid of letting people close, afraid of being found out. A foster brother of mine was sent back to the orphanage once my foster family figured out he was a mutant. Rough times for people like me.” Her nose wrinkled in clear disgust and Steve felt anger burning in his belly. He never liked bullies, picking on others because they were different.

 

“So one day, these two guys come in. One was a Brit, from the way he talked, the other—well, he was German actually. They come in, order their drinks, they drink, they leave and stick more bills than necessary into my tip jar. I think to myself, that’s kinda nice, you know—luck and all. Next day, they do the same thing. Always felt them looking at me a little bit, which would have crept me out usually. A week they do that and then the Brit once introduces himself, tells me his name is Charles Xavier and he and his friend were wondering whether I would wanna work for the government with them.”

 

There was a faint smile on her lips; it was a fond memory, Steve suspected.

 

“’Course, I tell him to fuck off for thinking I’m _that_ stupid, falling for the shtick. His friend laughed at me and picked up a spoon from his coffee and bent it with his mind. Now, every third class magician can do that, which is exactly what I tell him, so he told me to go to the spoon drawer and open it. He had bent all those spoons at well. Charles said that they were mutants just like me and that a government organization called S.H.I.E.L.D. was interested in creating a response team consisting of all mutants. So, I tell him to come back the next day with one of these S.H.I.E.L.D. folks, then we’d talk. I didn’t expect him to come back—but he did, together with an Agent named Phil Coulson.”

 

Thinking of Phil made his heart ache—he wondered if she knew how he died. The wistful look on her face lead him to believe that she probably did.

 

“So, Coulson tells me everything, how they know about my powers, how they think that I could do some good. They said—I’d be like an agent, gathering intel with the way my mind works. I don’t know why I agreed, honestly. But nobody ever gave me the time of day and I figured, I’d been afraid of my powers for _so long_ , maybe I could learn to do something good with it, you know? So I said yes. The next day, Charles and Erik—the German guy who bent the spoons— picked me and my things up to go work and live at S.H.I.E.L.D. Our response team was called the X-Men.”

 

He had suspected as much, honestly—from the bits and bobs he had heard in Clint’s house as well as Tony’s constant poking into Rose’s private life, Steve has had his suspicions for sure. Having them confirmed was an entirely different ballgame, though.

 

“There was training, first. Charles was a telepath, he could read minds and make people do things—not unlike Wanda, I suppose. He knew exactly how to teach me to get the best out of my powers. We spent hours working on both my powers and his. He was in a wheelchair; did I mention that? Some old CIA injury, he said. Both he and Erik had worked for the CIA beforehand, attempting to get a similar group formed. The CIA dropped the idea after Charles’ injury and S.H.I.E.L.D. picked it up again. It was just the three of us. Fury wanted us to succeed at first before we went ahead and recruited new mutants. This is how I met Clint, too. He was assigned to teach me how to shoot a gun, but I suspect he was there to see whether we were good or not. We became friends, as you can tell—and soon after that, we were sent on missions.”

 

He wanted to resist the urge to take her trembling fingers between his own to calm her. Steve reached out anyway, yet stopped himself half-way through, the tips of his fingers nudging against her tips right where they met in the space between them. She turned to look at his hand, then at him. There was something in her eyes, but he couldn’t point his finger at it.

 

“I was twenty-five when it happened. We were doing well—really well. Charles was already making a list of other mutants we could take into the X-Men program. One day, Clint and I were sent on a mission together—it was nothing _weird_ , you know, we’d always go on missions apart from each other, depending on which skill set was needed. When I came back home, they asked me whether I knew of any family of Charles’ that had to be contacted.”

 

Tears collected in the corners of her eyes and her breath hitched as she continued to speak. “Erik and he went on a mission, rescuing S.H.I.E.L.D. agents that had been taken hostage by unknown individuals. Charles ‘n the agents didn’t make it. They never told me h-how—how he _died_ —“

 

She sobbed, lowering her head which caused her glasses to fall onto her lap. She aggressively rubbed across her cheeks.

“Said he got shot, but he _didn’t_ , there were no gunshot wounds, I checked the medical report before they remembered to take it off the system. Erik didn’t see it happen and _nobody_ would tell me anything. Said it was classified, said that I just had to deal with it, ‘cause I had no clearance. I threw my badge into Fury’s face and walked out of there.”

 

Steve gently reached out and took her glasses out of her lap, folding them delicately before placing them on her coffee table (he was always afraid of breaking things, his hands sometimes still felt too big for his body, even after all these years). There was something in the way she cried—her head was still up high and only random sniffles made her break her harsh posture. It was as if she refused to show weakness, as if she was angry at herself for even showing him that much. There were still tears in her eyes, rolling down her cheeks ever so often, but she rubbed them away so aggressively that Steve wondered whether she was punishing herself with the harshness of her hand.

 

“Why is Clint scared of Erik?” Steve asked then, tentatively—he could see the instant relief in her shoulders as he changed the topic ever so slightly. He wanted to hug her, let her cry it out, but it would be neither proper nor what she wanted. He also noticed that she didn’t mention being in a romantic relationship with either one of the men in her story, even though he was certain that he had noticed undertones of a romance in the bits of her story that he knew before. Sometimes it was easier to talk about people one used to love without mentioning the love part. That’s how he did it with talking about Peggy. _Or Buck, for that matter._

 

She sniffled once more, shuffling a bit to get into a more comfortable position. “Because he’s powerful and _angry_. Charles kept him at bay, but—without Charles there, Erik is a ticking time bomb and Clint and I, we know it.”

 

“Why are you protecting him then?”

 

The answer took her a moment. “Because he’s my friend and I love him. He’s dangerous, sure. But I can’t give up on him.”

 

His heart ached as he remembered long brown hair, eyes full of fear and wonder and a metal arm where flesh used to be.

 

“I know that feeling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, kids! Uni is going to ease up next week, so chapters will be posted more regularly then. Tell me what you think :) And thank you for the kudos and comments!! I really appreciate it. :)


	18. Override

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rose and Steve have a fight, the Avengers trend on Twitter and Clint knows all the words to Taylor Swift's songs.

She never went into the gym when Wanda was in there. Rose felt no animosity towards the girl, regardless of their dispute near the African coast. Bruce on the other hand was still not friendly with Wanda, but Rose understood—he wasn’t green around the nose anymore when she was close, though, so they may be on the mend.

 

No, she never went into the gym when Wanda was there.

 

She felt overwhelmed with memories the one and only time she did work out with the younger mutant. She saw weak spots, saw lack of focus and she could hear, _legitimately hear_ Charles how he used to softly scold her for the exact same mistakes. Rose had excused herself from the gym and went to shower. If she cried a bit there, nobody would notice.

 

Clint and her made up a couple of days later. They had avoided each other carefully, feeling the fight bubble up in their stomachs every damn time they saw each other, but both Rose and Clint were quick to anger and even quicker to forgive; The right people only, of course—some people deserved no forgiveness. Another thing Rose and Clint agreed on.

 

It was actually during dinner making time. Clint, Nat and Steve had suggested both her and Sam join their cooking group and Rose had felt grateful for it. Clint had been aggressively chopping carrots as Natasha had ordered (they made lasagna this time, after Sam’s recipe), when Rose simply had enough. “Hey, birdbrain.” She called from her spot on the stove, where she was calmly whisking béchamel sauce, under Sam's expert supervision.

 

Clint grunted to acknowledge she had spoken.

 

“Journey or Taylor Swift?”

 

The archer looked up in surprise—Natasha sighed loudly. Sam and Steve looked like little lost puppies. “Surprise me.”

 

They ended up singing into their wooden cooking spoons to Taylor Swift’s _Red_. Steve asked later whether he could borrow some of her Taylor Swift tunes, later on.

 

Other than that, life went on. Rose found herself _happy_ to wake up in the morning, despite the usual morning grumpiness that she suffered from, but who could blame her? Nat still punched her through the gym at the ass-crack of dawn. She was getting back into her old form though and she _knew_ it. While she was still walking out from the workout with bruises all over her body, she knew that she came closer to dodging every punch and every kick the redhead dished out—she wasn’t there yet, but it was only going to be a matter of time.

 

Working with Tony was _a blast_. As it turned out, he responded to music as well as she did, so they decided on switching from his playlist to hers every two hours. While he pretended to hate her tunes, she caught him often enough singing alongside her. She had mastered coding rather quickly—Tony had been right all along, even though she never said it to his face. Writing code was a test in patience for sure, as the human brain had to adapt its thinking into the way a computer thought—but Rose was ahead of that already. She easily wrote hundreds of lines of code that in their complexity made Tony beam with something similar to pride whenever he checked over her lines. And he checked a lot.

 

Sometimes, she’d turn around to find him staring over her shoulder, eyes squinted in deep thought as he made suggestion here and there. She challenged herself to not use her powers to get things done, but rather to write it down in code. It gave Rose a good idea of how to protect the tower when she wasn’t here—a lot of her control was based on her access to things. If she were unable to hitch a ride to the tower’s system during a mission, it would leave the place defenseless. She understood that much.

 

Rose once overheard Tony talk to Bruce about how impressed he was with her work. The woman didn’t know why, but she rushed to the bathroom and sniffled a bit after that, holding back tears of pride.

* * *

 

There was a mission two weeks after her talk with Steve and _naturally_ it went shitty. Steve had carefully explained how not all of them would go to deal with the problem—it was a suspected Hydra facility that had survived the world-wide raid that Steve had conducted shortly after the fall of the Triskelion, hiding under the city buzz of Chicago. The Hydra nest was hiding in bunkers under the city, using the difficulty of access as an advantage. In order to keep the Quinjet close enough to extract quickly if necessary, the plan was to keep the bird up in the air, right above the entry point to the bunkers. Then, if necessary, someone would land and collect the Avengers when everything was said and done. Again, this happened  _right above_ Chicago. Steve, understandably, wasn't happy.

 

Nat, Clint and Tony went alongside the Captain. Pietro threw a fit, but Steve explained calmly about how he didn’t want Hydra to get a hold of them again. Rose suspected that he simply believed they weren’t ready and considering the impressive purple bruise on Pietro’s shoulder (he sparred with Thor, which was just a _horrible_ idea overall), she was inclined to believe him. She didn’t ask if she could go—Rose knew better. If they wanted her to go, they’d tell her—which they did.

 

Turned out they wanted her to hack into the systems there and pull the intel to the Tower while they were doing the fighting thing. Which was fine, really—nothing she hadn’t done a million times before. The absence of both Charles and Erik was a constant ache in her chest, but she powered through it. Right up until she witnessed _Steven Fucking Rogers_ throwing himself into a fight right in front of her nose (well, not _in front_ of her nose, rather in front of Tony’s suit—she accessed it via FRIDAY to get a look at what was happening). The fight wasn’t the problem. The fact that the Hydra prick he was punching the ever living hell out of had a grenade in his hand, ready to explode. “Rogers, you idiot, watch the fucking grenade!” she screamed into her coms, causing the man to flinch and actually realize that said grenade was near him. Steve got away just in time as the grenade exploded and ripped the Hydra goons to pieces.

Her coms flickered a bit. “Rose, watch your goddamn tone. This is a mission and I’m your supervising officer.” He sounded annoyed, out of breath. But at least alive.

 

She deflated for just a few moments, but the anger was still there.

 

She kept it together during the flight. She didn’t say a word other than “You guys okay?” and “Got everything, it’s waiting for us when we get back.”

 

But once she stepped off the Quinjet, she turned towards Rogers and took a deep breath. “Mission over?” she asked and he nodded, his jaw tight as he stared at her. He didn’t see the punch coming.

 

Rose crushed her fist straight against his stupid patriotic jaw, causing an approaching Darcy to yelp in shock at the motion. Steve stared at her as if he had never seen her before.

  
“Oh, I’m sorry, _Cap_. Did that hurt? Imagine being blown to pieces by a grenade, I bet that’d hurt _even worse_. I saved your stupid ass out there and all you can babble up is _watch your tone_? I’m not a kid, fuck you very much. You didn’t see the grenade, I did. Some people say _thank you_.”

 

Her chest was heaving with fury as she turned around on her heel and went straight back to her room.

* * *

 

Steve was _furious_.

 

Back in his day, nobody would have ever dared to speak to a supervising officer that way. Come to think of it, that didn’t even happen today. The idea of him yelling at Colonel Phillips like that, let alone _punching_ him—it sent a knot of fear into his stomach, despite the good Colonel being dead for a very long time.

 

He had thought he understood her now— after the talk they had together, Steve had been certain she could be a great addition to the team, with the way she felt passionate about her teammates and had a strong sense of right and wrong. But the way she had disrespected him on the battlefield and the way she had straight-out _punched_ him in the face once they were safe and sound lead him to rethink his opinion.

 

She was a _horrible_ soldier, Steve decided.

 

He was furious when he went into the med bay and let Bruce check over his wounds. He was fucking _pissed_ when he went to his apartment and showered. He was irritated by the time he came out and put on clean clothes. To his own surprise, he didn’t find Natasha or Sam in his apartment when he did—usually, one of the two would tell him when he had overreacted. Natasha practically relished the way she could scold him when he went too far—Sam pointed out Steve’s flaws clinically, but kindly; which was probably why he had been so great at his job at the VA.

 

Nobody was there, though, leading Steve to believe that he was absolutely right this time.

He went and made himself a stack of sandwiches about as long as his arm; just like all apartments, his was equipped with a brand-new kitchen. Steve barely used it, preferring to eat his meals in the common room with the other residents. Now, however, he wasn’t in the mood to see anyone. He sat down on his dinner table, like his ma had taught him to, demolishing the sandwiches in under ten minutes. He found himself satisfied for the moment, at least in regards to food.

 

He tried to draw—actually took out his notebook and pencils, attempting to put his emotions onto paper, but nothing would flow out. After his entire table was filled with the remnants of his eraser, Steve gave up. He picked up the one of the books Bruce had given him for his birthday (the Harry Potter series, which was apparently very popular with the kids), but he found himself reading the same passage four times and still forgetting what even happened there.

 

After he wasted a good hour of his life, Steve threw his hands up in exasperation. “This is un-fucking-believable.” He muttered to himself, well aware of how shocked his teammates would be to hear him using such language. Especially since he had a swear jar in the common room—but everyone had made assumptions the first time he came here and Steven G. Rogers was not above using other people’s prejudice against them. Least it could do was buy him a new jacket or something.

 

“FRIDAY? Where is Rose currently?”

 

“I am sorry, Captain, but Miss Kapoor has currently evoked her privacy protocols. I am unable to confirm or deny her location.”

 

Steve’s brows furrowed.

 

“Where are Barton, Romanoff and Vision?”

 

“Agents Barton and Romanoff are in their shared apartment. Vision is in the common room.”

 

“Where they in Rose’s apartment today?”

 

“All three of them attempted to get permission to enter. Miss Kapoor refused all but Agent Barton, who left an hour ago.”

 

That made sense. Clint and Rose were as thick as thieves—if it weren’t for Steve’s certainty that Clint and Natasha were _something_ , he’d suspect that Rose and Barton were having a fling, from the way they kept touching and nudging each other.

 

“Does Rose’s privacy protocol keep you from asking her whether she’d let me in?”

 

“I am unable to communicate with Miss Kapoor, aside from informing her about emergencies.”

 

Steve sighed. _Just stop being a coward and talk to the gal, Stevie._ He heard Bucky’s voice in his ear as he unfolded himself from his chair and went for her door. _Here goes nothing._

* * *

 

She didn’t know why it upset her so much.

 

Well, actually—that was a lie. She knew _exactly_ why it upset her too much. For one, Rose was fully aware that she had overreacted—not on the field, but after arriving. Punching Steve had been uncalled for, but the way he had pointedly not looked at her the entire flight had made her feel so damn inadequate, as if she was so wrong to worry about his life-- it had just flipped a switch inside her.

 

She knew she wasn’t wrong to worry so much. Last time a mission went wrong, she lost the three people she cared about the most in one go—each one of them in their own way. So when she saw the grenade in the Hydra guy’s hand, launching at Steve with nothing left to lose but his own life, Rose had held herself back, actually. If Steve hadn’t reacted, she’d have taken over Tony’s suit and shot every last one of them. It then occurred to her, that she thought of these idiots as her friends—all of them. The idea of losing either one made her throat close up with tears she refused to acknowledge.

 

_For someone who goes out of her way to shut people out, I’m doing a shit job._

 

Truth was, since Charles’ death and Erik’s disappearance, Rose had kept to herself. The idea of losing someone like that again had terrified her to the point of grabbing for a bottle of liquor more often than she used to. She had gotten a grip on the alcohol later in her life, but the fear never went away. It had been too easy to fall into familiar patterns with Clint (he had been her friend before) and her walls had come down around the rest of the group in the process as well. She had forgotten about the possibility of losing either one of them until that grenade.

 

And all _he_ could do was bark at her about the way she spoke to him.

 

Clint had tried to get her to talk, but after an hour of one-word answers and non-committal grunts, he had given up and given her the time alone she needed. She was eternally grateful that there was no alcohol in her apartment. She didn’t need that temptation too, now.

 

_Emotions fucking suck_.

 

Someone knocked at her door, leaving Rose to groan—she was wearing shorts and a simple white T-Shirt that she had tucked under the waistband of her pants. Charles’ soft brown leather jacket was over her shoulders, grounding her the way it always had ever since he was gone. “Go _away_ , Clint!” she yelled, huddling deeper into the too large jacket. She had gotten it cleaned so many times, but Rose could sometimes still smell him on it. Maybe it was just her imagination.

 

“—It’s Steve.”

 

She looked up from her spot on the couch, shortly contemplating just staying here and telling him to fuck off. But she was a big girl nowadays, or _grown ass woman_ as both she and Darcy preferred to call it, so she rolled off the couch and trotted towards the door. She opened it with a huff, nudging her glasses up her nose again.

 

Steve stood there, carefully _calm_ as he gave her a once over. Rose wasn’t sure whether she saw his eyes widen ever so slightly at the sight of her bare legs, but he settled on her face immediately.

 

She said nothing, kept staring at him—he stared back, obviously waiting for her to speak.

 

After a moment, he sighed. “We need to talk about this.”

 

She wanted to close the door in his stupid pretty face, but she just stepped aside to let him in. Rose settled for the couch then, thinking that this might be a good place to have all heartfelt conversations from now on. Why the hell break a winning streak?

 

Steve settled across from her again, taking a deep breath.

 

“I can’t say I appreciate you punching me in the face. Or you telling me to fuck off.”

 

She pushed her lips together tightly. “Mm. I don’t appreciate you telling me to watch my tone when I just kept you from being blown to bits.”

 

Steve flinched at that, before running a hand over his face. “I guess I did say that, didn’t I?”

 

“Yup.” She popped the _p_ , looking down at her hands.

 

“I was angry with myself, not you. I didn’t see the grenade until you told me.” Steve admitted quietly and Rose let out a shaky breath.

 

“I was scared you were going to die.”

 

His eyebrows pushed together, leaning back a little. “Where does that come from? I can handle an amateur with a grenade, doll.” There was a moment of tension in his shoulders, as if he didn’t mean to call her _doll_ and as if he was scared it might make her angry. It didn’t, though.

 

“The last time a mission went wrong, I ended up all alone after.” She muttered, clearing her throat. She held back tears, again—Rose wondered how long she could do that until she’d break. Her last good cry had been weeks ago. With all that stress and anxiety, she was surprised she hadn’t burst yet.

 

Steve made a knowing sound in the back of his throat and he questioningly held his hand over hers—he didn’t touch her until she looked up at him and nodded ever so slightly. He then enveloped her smaller hand in his bigger one, squeezing softly. “Hard to get over that fear, ain’t it?” he muttered and Rose nodded.

 

“We’re both quick with the anger, aren’t we?” she sighed and Steve actually chuckled at that.

“Yeah. Always been that way. Got m’self some bloody noses when I was younger.” His blue eyes glistened with something—it looked a lot like amusement.

 

“Mmm. Me too. My mom used to say I had gasoline in my veins instead of blood. I blow up quick.”  She explained. It made her feel better.

 

Steve smiled wistfully. “I can see that. I am sorry I was rude and cold.”

 

She swallowed. “I’m sorry I punched you and used bad language words in front of you. Do I have to put money in the swear jar now?”

 

Steve squeezed her hand again, before leaning forward, whispering. “I’ll tell ya somethin’, doll. I’m worse than all of you combined ‘bout that swearin’.” He wasn’t minding his language anymore, Rose noticed—he went full Brooklyn on her. She kinda liked it.

 

“You what now?”

 

Steve laughed. “I _curse_. I was in the Army, after all. We used to use _fucking_ or _fuck_ in basically every sentence. Just watched m’language around the dames—but when I moved in here, Tony was convinced that I was pure as driven snow, so I decided to mess with him a little. I put up the swear jar, make everyone pay for saying bad words.”

 

She stared at him in disbelief, before she laughing whole-heartedly. “Rogers you’re _devious_! Who knows about this?”

 

Steve shrugged. “Natasha, I think—but she still pays up, so I’m not sure. Other than her—you.”

 

Rose nodded slightly. “I’ll keep your secret, then. What do you do with the money?”

 

“Give it to a charity, if it’s a lot. If it’s just like twenty bucks, I go get a burger.”

  
Rose laughed at that. “So, the outcome depends on whether Tony and Clint are around, basically.”

“Pretty much.”

 

* * *

 

“You’re trending on Twitter!”

 

Rose looked up from her dinner. There had been no cooking tonight, everyone was wrecked, so Steve and her had made grilled cheese sandwiches together. She ate about two thirds of what he ate, exhausted by the use of her powers from the earlier mission. Steve was very impressed.

 

Darcy was standing in front of them, her chest rapidly sinking and raising as she flailed her arms.

“Did you _run_ here?” Rose asked, looking at Steve. He seemed similarly confused about Darcy’s demeanor.

 

“I did! Look, look, you’re trending!” For a moment, Rose thought Darcy was talking to Steve, but the woman was immediately nudged against her side, showing her shaky pictures and cellphone footage of her in the mission in Chicago. With the facility _right under_ the city, she had had a hard time hiding the jet close enough to get everyone out quickly. Someone must have seen her—there was a picture of her helping Clint into the Jet, followed by a picture of her looking at Steve grimly. There was another picture of her staring directly into the direction of the camera, not really seeing that she was being photographed.

 

Twitter had gone _wild_. The pictures had been retweeted hundreds of thousands of times, most of them dubbed with the hashtag _#SecretAvenger_.

 

“What do we do?” Rose implored nervously—she looked at Steve with anxiety clear in her face. Back in her S.H.I.E.L.D. days, being covert was the most important thing. He seemed to sense her discomfort, nudging her elbow with his. “It’s okay. I’m being told that’s normal now.”

 

Darcy nodded. “Yup, it totally is! And as I am in charge of the Avengers Twitter and Instagram, we totally have to make you known to the public now. I called in a meeting here—Maria is coming to sign off on everything, but since the cat is out of the bag, we shouldn’t deny it. You got a Twitter?”

 

Rose nodded. "Yes, but I haven't used it in years."

 

Darcy typed away on her phone, nodding. “Okay, I’ll see you guys in fifteen minutes, is that okay? Everyone should be there then.”

 

The woman was gone as quickly as she had turned up, leaving Rose to her misery. She hadn’t meant to be photographed, obviously. Rose sighed and got up from the spot at the kitchen counter. She washed her hands and mouth to get rid of the grease from the sandwiches, before she reclaimed her spot next to Steve. He had demolished the rest of his and her sandwiches in the meantime and was absentmindedly wiping his fingers clean. “Is it a problem that this happened?” she asked quietly and Steve looked up. He contemplated his answer for a moment.

 

“No. I mean; you were going to be seen eventually—we stand in the public eye a lot. We’re not a secret spy agency like S.H.I.E.L.D., we’re an international response team. I would have liked for you, the Maximoffs, Sam and Vision to have a bit more time until you made yourselves known, but what’s done is done. Don’t feel bad about this. You’ll get the hang of it—if Darcy can teach me how to tweet, she can teach you.”

 

The corners of her mouth ticked upwards dangerously, revealing a slow, wide grin. “What’s your Twitter handle, Steve?”

 

“@CapRogers. It was the only one left available, weirdly enough.”

 

Rose blinked twice, accessing the internet within less than a second—her brain was flooded with Steve’s tweets. Most of them were political—he spoke out against racism and for women’s rights in almost every tweet. There were a few awkwardly taken pictures of him struggling with modern appliances.

 

> **_Steven G. Rogers_ ** _@CapRogers:  
>    
>  Why does a microwave need that many buttons? Make SI products more user friendly @IronMan._

 

Rose found a few more pictures of sunrises and some of the Smithsonian exhibit (in which Steve cleared up all the inaccuracies), but other than that it was good.

 

She shook her head a bit to retreat from the internet, turning to look at Steve. He smiled at her. “You’re good at this twitter thing.”

 

He honest to God blushed—the tips of his ears turned a bit red. “Well, I mean, it took me a while. Darcy’s been helpin’ me with all of it. She said it was a good way to get important messages out. I started when people were fightin’ ‘bout vaccinatin’ their kids on tv. Made me angry.”

 

Rose had to agree with that. She wondered what the hell Natasha tweeted about.

 

Fifteen minutes later, Rose, Steve and Clint were sprawled on the couch in the common rooms, with Rose mentally projecting the Twitter feeds of the Avengers onto the big movie screen. As it turned out, every Avenger had a Twitter account, some even had Instagram. There was a general Avenger Twitter and Instagram that was run by Darcy (@AvengersAssemble! Darcy was _so_ proud she still caught that handle before it was taken) and showed day-by-day happenings around the Tower. Darcy, who apparently had a PhD in political science, had explained that this made them much more available to the public—people were apparently less inclined to say bad things about someone if they knew them. Rose believed that for sure.

 

Eventually, most of the group turned up; Only Bruce had to excuse himself, as both he and Jane were deep in science. Rose felt a bit like a child in school as Darcy planted herself in front of the group, blocking the view to the flat screen—most of the Avengers were squeezed onto the couch and the joining seats. Especially Tony and Pepper were cute, the way the CEO was comfortably placed in Tony’s lap, texting, while Tony gently rubbed her shoulders. Rose resisted the urge to _aww_ at them.

 

“Okay kids, you all know why we’re here, don’t you?” Darcy began, arms crossed in front of her ample chest.

  
“Yeah, ‘cause Rosie-Bear fucked up.” Clint called out, munching happily. Were those chips? Rose reached out and kicked him against his thigh the second Natasha hit him over the head.

  
“Ow, _fuck_! Violence! Cap, say something, that’s unpatriotic!” Clint whelped.

 

Steve leaned forward, boxed Clint against the arm and pointed at the swear jar. With a groan, Clint put in two dollars. Cap leaned back and winked at Rose, who had trouble keeping a straight face.

 

“Ugh, I _so_ have to stop inviting you to this, Barton. First of all, _no_ , Rosie-Bear did not f— _mess_ up!” Darcy corrected herself before Steve could make her pay up.

 

Thor was sitting on one of the seats, Mjölnir solemnly between his hands. “Please continue, dearest Darcy. Friend Hawkeye will behave; I am certain of it.” The Asgardian prince shot Clint an angry look. Clint grumbled quietly into his chips.

 

Darcy beamed at Thor, before turning her attention back to the flat screen. “Rosie, could you show us the Hashtag?”

 

Rose nodded towards the flat screen and immediately the Hashtag _#SecretAvenger_ was displayed. It was full of pictures of her from Chicago, as well as thousands of tweets.

 

> **_SarahRULES_ ** _@SarahRules_
> 
> _I’m always a slut for Lady Avengers. #SecretAvenger._

 

> **_Jameson_ ** _@Jameson4ever_
> 
> _Who is #SecretAvenger? And how can I get her out of that costume?_

> **_Alessavo_ ** _@Alessavo_
> 
> _Did @AvengersAssemble! recruit? Why don’t they recruit #Spiderman, then? #SecretAvenger_

> **_Cap 4Ever_ ** _@bigXCaptain_
> 
> _Why is #SecretAvenger glaring at @CapRogers? My poor baby :( It's treason to upset Captain America!_

 

Rose snorted amusedly—she ignored the more sexist and/or racist tweets down the line. Honestly, those were to be expected, sadly enough. Darcy looked at the screen, grinning like a maniac. “This is, like, _so_ freakin’ awesome. Anyway, as you can see, Rosie has been spotted in Chicago. Everyone has been calling to get a statement, like, even _Fox News_. But we don’t give to Fox News, no no. Where was I? Right, spotted in Chicago. I know we agreed to wait a bit with the new Avengers coming out, but I think we need to speed the process up a bit, at least in Rosie’s case. You guys—“ Darcy pointed at Sam, Wanda, Pietro and Vision. “—can stay in the shadows a bit longer for now, if that’s what you want, but I think you need to make yourself known. I’ll set up a new Twitter for you, include you in the shots, we make a few statements—the others can do some welcome tweets or something. But we have to react, or it’s going to explode. After Sokovia, the Senate has been increasingly prissy about all of you. They didn’t dig the Triskelion thing—sorry, Cap –but flying cities is even worse.”

Steve next to her sighed, turning to look at Rose. “What do you think?” he asked quietly.

 

“I don’t know anything about this stuff. Darce, Pepper, do you guys really think that this is the best move?” Rose had no idea about how PR or politics worked—so she wasn’t going to pretend that she did.

 

Pepper looked up from her phone, nodding. “I’m afraid so. Ideally, we would have controlled the way you came out as part of the Avengers, but since the cat is out of the bag—we can’t lie, it’ll make us look suspicious. Darcy is right about that.”

 

Darcy nodded.

 

Rose sighed. “Okay, then. I guess what has to happen, has to happen.”

 

Darcy grinned widely. “Awesome-sauce! I’ll get right on it. What about you guys?” She nodded towards Sam, Vision, Wanda and Pietro. All of them seemed increasingly annoyed by the idea—minus Pietro, who looked like he was about to bounce out of his skin in excitement. “I’ll do it, too!” he announced. “I even have a name picked. _Quicksilver_.”

 

Rose had to admit she liked that name, actually. Smart. Darcy was already taking notes. Wanda sighed. “If he does, so do I. I think I will go with _Scarlet Witch_. Isn’t that what we said?” she looked towards Natasha, who gave the girl a firm nod. Odd. When had they become friends?

 

Vision turned to look at Rose, smiling. “I will do so, as well.” She got the feeling he did it for her only. It made her feel warm inside.

 

Sam groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. “Guess I have to, now. Fine, fine, set it up.”

 

Darcy looked up. “Falcon, right?” Sam nodded.

 

She took a few more notes, before looking back at Rose. “How about you? Do you want help picking a Superhero name? We _totally_ have to do that. People _love_ Superhero names.” Rose looked at Clint, who shrugged. “Can I use my old Codename for this?” she asked hesitantly.

 

Darcy nodded. “Sure! What was it?”

 

“ _Override_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it so far :D


	19. Go Team Brooklyn, yeah?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Waaah sorry for the long pause! I was having a really low point I think. I could barely write any replies on my blog, let alone actual chapters. I'm feeling better now, though. 
> 
> Here have Avengers using Twitter and Steve being sneaky.

 

> **_Tony Fucking Stark_ ** _@IronMan_
> 
> _Since you asked so nicely, here is #SecretAvenger Twitter: @OverrideRose. Be nice, but don’t you dare get her more followers than me!!!_

>   
> **_Hawkeye_ ** _@TheHawkeye_
> 
> _@OverrideRose just punched me! @CapRogers is it too late to take her Avenger membership? #SecretAvenger_

 

> **_Steven G. Rogers_ ** _@CapRogers_
> 
> _@TheHawkeye if that was possible, I’d have taken your membership years ago._

 

> **_Black Widow_ ** _@BWidow_
> 
> _Finally battling the testosterone with @OverrideRose and @ScarletWitch .  #SecretAvenger #MorelikeSecretAvengers_

 

> **_Thor Odinson_ ** _@SonofOdin_
> 
> _I am most pleased to welcome our new friends at @AvengersAssemble! They are worthy warriors! @OverrideRose @Vision @Quicksilver @ScarletWitch @TheFalcon_

 

> **_Fastest Man Alive!_ ** _@Quicksilver_
> 
> _I bet you didn’t see that one coming! #SecretAvengers_

 

> **_Rosie Kapoor_ ** _@OverrideRose_
> 
> _Whatever @TheHawkeye tells you, remember: it’s a lie. #lyingliarwhoLIES_

 

 

 

> **_Tickle the Turtle_ ** _@pie3141_
> 
> _@OverrideRose I think Override is a stupid Superhero name._

 

 

> **_Rosie Kapoor_ ** _@OverrideRose_
> 
> _@pie3141 I know, but Captain America was already taken as Superhero name :( Which is a bummer, bc red, white & blue does wonders for my skin tone._

 

 

> **_Megan_ ** _@mformegs_
> 
> _@OverrideRose you and @TheHawkeye seem pretty cuddly. #AvengerRomance?_

 

 

> **_Rosie Kapoor_ ** _@OverrideRose_
> 
> _@mformegs LOL no, sorry. @TheHawkeye is the white brother I never wanted. #AvengerBROmance_

 

> **_Hawkeye_ ** _@The Hawkeye_
> 
> _@OverrideRose u keep breaking my heart, kid. :( #Srslytho #AvengerBROmanceftw_

* * *

Twitter broke overnight. It literally crashed the second Darcy posted a picture of all the Avengers (old and new) squeezed onto one couch—of course that was basically impossible, even with the giant couch that Tony had put into the common room, so there were a couple of people sitting on each other’s laps—Rose was squeezed in between Vision and Thor, half sitting on the Asgardian’s lap. Clint, as per usual, had to be super flashy and threw himself over the laps of everyone sitting on the couch. Darcy made the picture as they were collectively pushing him onto the ground, their faces beaming with laughter at Clint’s expression of shock. The picture broke Ellen’s Oscar Selfie Twitter record within ten minutes. Ellen tweeted them her Congratulations, accompanied with a not-so-subtle invitation to her show for all Avengers, old and new. Other major shows followed—Oprah promised to bring her show back for a piece of each of the Avengers, if they agreed. Fox News, bummer that they were, complained about being kept in the dark for so long in a few abrasive tweets. Rose took care of that one.

 

 

> **_Rosie Kapoor_ ** _@OverrideRose_
> 
> _Sorry we didn’t come out earlier @FoxNews but I was kind of in the hospital for 3 weeks after Sokovia. #Priorities_

Darcy kissed Rose’s cheek when she suggested that tweet, claiming that any chance to piss off Fox News had to be taken, as it was Midgardian law. (At least that was what Darcy had told Thor—the god had good-naturedly believed her and was contradicting Fox News’ tweets whenever he was bored. Darcy _lived_ for that shit.)

 

Press releases and official statements were released by the dozen. Rose threw a temper tantrum once a supposed former foster brother of hers talked to the major tabloids about how she used to throw herself at him. “I don’t even know the guy, why are they printing this shit? Does nobody do fucking fact-checks anymore?” Her outbursts about these things cost her over fifty bucks that landed in Steve’s swear jar. He brought the money back to her with a wink later that night, saying that _extraordinary circumstances called for extraordinary language_. She was sure that he had cursed just as much about these articles in the privacy of his own apartment.

 

Tabloids kept talking about the new Avengers—pictures from her old High School yearbook were dug up, photoshopped and put on covers. Wanda, Sam and Pietro went through the same ordeal—people had an easier time doing that with Sam and Rose, though, due to Sokovia still being on the mend. Nobody was sending anyone information from Sokovia, for sure. Rose was aware of the danger of social media, but Darcy still gave her a long introduction into “ _how to not look like a dick on twitter 101_ ”, as she called it. Vision, Pietro, Wanda and Sam got the same treatment—Rhodey, who used the suit _War Machine_ similarly to Tony, kindly excused himself. He wasn’t fully joining the Avengers, at least not now. They needed a liaison in the military and with Sam being out, Rhodey was the only choice. Steve, Captain or not, was viewed as a different party, separate from the military despite his origin. Rose strongly suspected that this was just how he wanted it.

 

Darcy wondered whether she could get a couple of the new Avengers to do interviews—not on TV’s necessarily, but at least with newspapers. Rose wasn’t sure, claiming that she wanted to think about it. The idea of her words being turned in her own mouth were scary. Darcy suggested that maybe Rose, Steve and Sam could do an interview on the Daily Show—Rose _loved_ Jon Stewart and he had officially claimed that if he could get an Avenger on the show, he’d do the interview despite having quit already. Also, the Daily Show had tried to get Steve to speak to them for years—Darcy considered this the perfect opportunity. Rose was a bit reluctant, but left the ultimate decision up to Steve and Sam. She’d do it if they wanted to—the idea that someone was interested in her past and her opinion was still too much for her to handle. Steve promised to think about it—even though such an interview would take weeks to set up, anyway. Darcy Lewis was nothing if not thorough—she’d make sure nobody would mess with them in any way. Rose appreciated it.

 

Other than that, life went on. Rose still got up at five am to get her ass kicked by Natasha, adding a bit of practice in the shooting range with Clint after. She didn’t even come close to the archer’s perfect aim, but he praised her every time they left the range anyway, probably to make up for the angry Russian sneer that Rose had to endure with Natasha. Nat was a good teacher, but she was still _pissed_ that Rose hadn’t kept up her training all these years. Natasha Romanoff didn’t enjoy wasting her time.

 

She still left Wanda and Pietro alone. Whenever Steve thought it was time to get the two of them to train their powers properly, Rose was nowhere to be seen. She _knew_ that with the way Charles helped her control her powers, she could do the same thing for them—but she wasn’t ready whatsoever. Nobody said anything—Clint probably told Steve that she’d cave anyway, sooner or later.

* * *

 

“Tony?”

 

“Mmm?” The man looked up from the part of the Iron Man suit he was tinkering with. Oil was smeared across his cheek.

 

“I was thinking recently, about Sokovia.” It was late, close to dinner time—just a few hours ago, the Avengers had wished Thor goodbye for a couple of weeks. He had to return to Asgard to attend to his duties as prince, also keeping in mind the issue of Infinity Stones—Vision currently had one of them on his forehead, doing _something_. According to Thor, these stones were as powerful as they were rare, which was why the Asgardian thought that it was curious to see so many of them pop up in such a short amount of time.

 

Tony and Rose had retreated to Tony’s part of the lab afterwards—she was making immense progress with her work. She had already prepared a mock-up defense system for Vision to attempt to penetrate later on.

 

“What’s there to think about?” Tony asked, leaning back a bit—he waved his hand to turn the music a bit lower.

 

“I wasn’t very useful in the—punching and shooting at things department.”

 

“Doesn’t mean you’re not useful.” His mouth ticked downwards a bit, eyebrows pushed together. Rose found it endearing—he was upset that she’d say such a thing, the woman suspected.

 

“I know that. I just thought—I’d rather not be on the defense all the time. It’s easier to fight without having one of you keep an eye on me.”

 

“What are you proposing?”

 

She rolled over to him, turning to ensure that neither Bruce nor Jane were paying attention to them in their respective laboratories.

 

“I was wondering whether you had the time to make me something—something I can fight with. Not a full suit, mind you, just—like your gloves, maybe, something I can wear around my wrists and extract to a weapon in case it is needed. We could keep it from being accessed by anyone other than me—I mean, if you have the time. Or if you even want to.” She had been working up the courage to ask for _days_ now—the idea of some sort of specialized weaponry had been in her head for quite a while. Rose was done being the safety net—she needed to do something, she needed to be more. Maybe she could help better if she was actually capable of doing anything on the actual battle field.

 

Tony considered her for a long moment, before he shrugged. “Sure. I’ll draw somethin’ up. But you make me those peanut butter filled cookies you keep sneaking off to Barton.”

 

“I’ll make you _all_ the cookies.”

 

But Tony didn’t even listen—he ushered DUM-E and Butterfingers to clean up his desk and he immediately got started on sketches for her weaponry.

 

* * *

“You have a crush on her.”

 

Steve’s vision blurred for a moment—he had been staring at Darcy and Rose, sitting on the floor in the common room and attempting to violently destroy one another in a game of Mario Kart. The women were jumping up and down, hollering at one another, yelling loudly for both victory and defeat. Rose’ glasses dropped on the ground at least thrice.

 

He looked up to see Natasha standing next to him—she grinned at him knowingly, nodding towards the open sketchbook. He had been sitting on the kitchen table, absentmindedly doodling when the women came in to get snacks for their battle. Ever since they had started, Steve had only looked away long enough to carefully sketch a certain set of glasses.

 

“I don’t have a _crush_ on Darcy.”

Nat snorted amusedly, proceeding to prepare a cup of tea. “You know she’s not who I meant.”

 

Steve sighed, closing the sketchbook swiftly. “Goodnight, Natasha.”

 

A hand reached out, placed on his forearm to stop him. Steve turned around after taking a deep breath, turning towards his friend. Mischief was wiped from her face—was that worry?

 

“Do me a favor, Rogers. Don’t repeat past mistakes. You waited too long once, don’t do it again.”

 

That stung—he removed her hand from his forearm, jaw clenching tightly. “That’s not your place, Nat.”

 

The redhead merely shrugged. “I’m not looking out for only you, Steve. I’m looking out for her, too. Just take her to a movie or something. What’s the harm?”

 

He turned his head to look at Darcy and Rose—Rose was bouncing up and down as she yelled at her character to _keep driving dumbass I swear if you fall off that stage again!_. Darcy was laughing so hard, she had difficulty staying on the road herself.

 

“I don’t have a crush.”

 

“Mhm. If that’s what you say. I do have it on good authority that she does, though.”

 

Steve’s head whipped around to face Natasha, mouth slightly agape. “She told you that?”

 

Nat laughed, pouring a spoon of honey into her tea, before winking at him and walking over to the girls. “Does one of you need a team member? We could do teams.”

 

Darcy, who was currently pouting as Rose had eliminated her from this round, immediately bounced, smiling. “ _Yes_! Be on my team, Nat!”

 

Rose shook her head. “Are you crazy? Two against one is the _definition_ of unfair!”

 

Nat nodded towards the kitchen, where Steve was still standing, staring at them with his sketchbook and pen in hand. “Ask Steve to be your second.”

 

With a wide grin, the mutant dropped her controller on the couch and rushed over to him—she was right in his vision within a moment, smiling up at him in a way that made his throat dry. “Hey, are you up for a bit of a game? I need a partner. I’m not sure if you’ve played before, but it’s really easy to learn.”

 

Steve did his best to focus on the way her upper lip curved up as she smiled at him and _not_ look at the way her breasts moved a bit more freely in the T-Shirt that had his shield on it. Was she not wearing a bra?

 

“I’m not sure I’ll be helpful.” He managed to get out, trying to not remember the words Natasha had just said to him. _Did she like him? Or was Nat messing with him? Hell, knowing the woman, it could be both._

 

She waved it off, taking his arm and pulling him after her. “That’s okay, I’ll explain how it works and we’ll figure it out. Go Team Brooklyn, yeah?”

 

Steve smiled as he sat down next to her, close enough for her knees to be nudging his thighs as she leaned over to point at buttons and controls, explaining how to make drive the Kart. He didn’t tell her that he had played before with Clint and Tony, wondering if that made him a bad person-- he didn't quite pay attention to her explanations, but rather to the way she positioned his fingers onto the right buttons, showing him how to drive and where to fire the items off. And if he played a little dumb, hell, only Natasha would know.

 

“Yeah, go Team Brooklyn.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was a rather short one, the next chapter is much longer. I just needed a bit of an interlude there and I didn't want to add it to one of the other chapters, yadda yadda. I hope you guys like it anyway!


	20. I’m not twenty anymore and your biceps of steel mean nothing to me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woop! I figured since the last update was super short and you had to wait so long for it, I should just post the next chapter. Have fun and thanks so much for the awesome comments!! Next up? Sam is smart as fuck, Steve and Rosie go on a not-date and Tony Stark decides to buy New York.

“You know—umpf! You could just—argh, damn you, Rogers! –ask Rose to help—ugh, _crap_!” Sam fell backwards, unable to block the last punch that Steve had thrown at him—Steve had taken it upon himself to get Sam up to speed with his combat training; he still had the basics down perfectly from his time in Afghanistan, but it did both of them some good to freshen up the memory. Steve wasn’t sure how and when these sessions turned into some sort of therapy for him, but he decided to just let it flow. Back when he had woken up from the ice, S.H.I.E.L.D. had sent him to several therapists. But Steve Rogers, having grown up in an entirely different time, had issues accepting that PTSD (or shell shock, depending on whether the current term came to his mind) was a valid excuse to feel shitty. Sure, for other people, Steve was the most understanding person—but when it came to cutting himself some slack, he was awful. Sam however—with Sam, Steve could talk. The other man never made it feel like a therapy session, more like a conversation with a friend. It helped, Steve suspected.

 

Of course, there was the Bucky thing. Both he and Sam were still trying their best to find the man known as the Winter Soldier, but he was a ghost at this point. There was no way to find him—every lead turned out to be a one-way street, leaving Steve and Sam frustrated for days at a time. Bucky didn’t want to be found, obviously. But that didn’t mean that they gave up.

 

“I can’t ask her to help us. She’d have to lie for us and you know it.” Steve bent down, offering his hand for Sam to take. Sam came back onto his feet, turning his head from one side to the other. “Well, you should tell Tony anyway, ‘s what I’m thinking.” Sam explained and Steve sighed. “I know, but I can’t. What if he decides he wants to kill Buck instead of saving him?”

 

Both men suspected that Howard Stark’s death had been by the hand of the Winter Soldier. Neither Steve nor Sam had any idea about how to breach that topic with him.

 

“Alright, but you know we’re out of leads. She could give us a fresh set of eyes, if nothing else. Didn’t Barton say that she kept an eye on him when she was out of S.H.I.E.L.D.? Just think what that girl could do with her current resources.”

 

Steve wondered when the hell Sam had become his voice of reason. “I’m not sure she’d want to lie to Stark, they’re pretty close these days. And you know she doesn’t tell Barton anything but the truth.”

  
“Jealous?” Sam teased, going back into fighting stance.

 

Steve groaned and threw a punch. “Not you _too_.”

* * *

 

He found her in the kitchen and she didn’t look like herself at all. Hands clenched to fists and placed on her waist, her frame hidden behind tight blue jeans, chucks and a red-and-black plaid shirt she had on over a tight black top. Her dark hair was put up in a messy bun on the top of her head, her glasses nudged up her nose. She was currently scowling at Clint and from the way the archer looked at her, she wasn’t winning.

  
“I haven’t been out of here in _weeks_ , Clint! You can’t just hold me prisoner. I’m not twenty anymore and your biceps of steel mean nothing to me. I’m just going out for ice cream, for fuck’s sake!”

 

Clint pouted. “You can have ice cream here. With us. See, Steve is here! You can have ice cream with both of us.” Natasha was sitting next to Clint, pointedly amused about the entire conversation— the redhead caught Steve’s eye and winked. _Wait, what?_

 

Rose turned around to look at him and for a moment, Steve was about to suggest that ice cream did in fact sound rather nice—but the look in her eyes was cutting, as if she was daring him to open his stupid mouth. He swallowed and approached slowly, carefully, just as he had learned he was supposed to when dangerous women were ready to battle and not considering taking any prisoners. He had seen it with his ma, with Peggy, with Natasha and certainly with Pepper. He knew that look and Steve Rogers, master tactician and defendant of the American Way, knew better than to fuck with a woman ready to get shit done.

 

“I want to go _out_. Outside, like, breathe actual air. If reporters follow me, they can do that, but I don’t look anything like the _one_ picture they made of me, so nobody is going to notice. I love you, Clint, I really, _really_ do, but if I don’t get out of here _now_ I am going to murder someone. And right now, you’re the first on my list.”

 

 Clint opened his mouth as though to protest and Steve caught a glimpse of Natasha, nodding towards Rose, one eyebrow raised at him.

 

“Would you wanna take me with you?”

 

The suggestion left his lips before Steve could hold himself back and he stared at both Rose and Clint as if they could explain to him why he said that. Natasha was clearly holding back a chuckle.

“Take you… with me.” The brunette woman carefully repeated, an eyebrow raised. “I don’t need a babysitter, Rogers.” She argued quietly, her brown eyes cold.

 

“That’s not what I said, doll, at all. Just, you’re going out and I coulda use some air myself.” _Wow_ that was much smoother than he had anticipated.  _Bucky would be so proud_.

 

Clint’s eyes widened at the way Steve used the pet name _doll_ on her, but Rose didn’t argue at all. She looked at Clint triumphantly, before walking over to Steve and linking her arm with his. “Yes, I’ll definitely take you out for ice cream, Steve. See you later, Clint.” With a turn of her heel, she strutted away, pulling Steve behind her.

 

The Captain only caught a glimpse of Natasha’s wide smirk and Clint’s disbelieving frown, but he knew that this evening’s dinner was not going to be fun. Aw, hell. From the way that Rose was already babbling about the shops she wanted to visit, Steve suspected that he wouldn’t mind very much.

 

_I don’t have a damn crush_.

 

At Rose’s request, Steve went ahead and changed his clothes into something less _Captain-y_ , as she had called it.

 

“If you wear shirts that tight, Steve, people are going to notice. I’m not complaining about the view, but I’d really rather not be noticed.” She had explained carefully, as though she was worried he might be offended. He wasn’t, but the tips of his ears turned slightly red as she suggested she liked the view. _Bucky would’ve known what to say to that_. Steve, however, had just hummed his approval and went ahead to change into jeans, a simple white T-Shirt (less tight than his other shirts) and a black leather jacket. He threw a baseball cap on as well and met Rose in the garage. He offered to take her on the bike, as she owned no car of her own, but Rose preferred to walk, so they did.

 

Stark Tower (or rather the Avengers Tower) was located in Midtown Manhattan and usually heavily surrounded by reporters attempting to catch a glimpse of the infamous Avengers. It should be _much_ harder to get out of the Tower than it actually was—Rose tapped her temple twice to mess with the cell signal of each and every one of those reporters, essentially ending the world as they knew it. In the overall confusion, Steve and Rose slipped out the back door, walking calmly, confidently and with intend. “First rule of being on the run, don’t run, walk.” Steve muttered under his breath and Rose laughed unexpectedly. “Did Natasha tell you that, too?”

 

He nodded. “Yes, back when we were on the run. When did she tell you?”

 

Rose pushed her glasses up her nose a bit more. “Back in the day. Spy training. I was trying to outrun Clint in a public mall—it was an exam type of thing.”

 

“How did you do?”

 

Mischief glowed in her eyes. “I might have gotten bored half-way through and I ran to a policeman, claiming that a guy fitting Clint’s description was following me. I slipped out while they arrested Clint, who obviously couldn’t go all _Hawkeye_ on them. Nat had to post bail. It was _hilarious_.”

 

Steve chuckled lowly, shaking his head as they kept walking. Hell, it certainly sounded like something she’d do. It was a smart move—much smarter than anything he could come up with. It reminded him of the time when Nat and he had to get rid of the STRIKE team back when they had been in the run. While Steve had thought of punching his way through and getting Nat out, Natasha had chosen the route of least contact. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, he thought—he was a soldier, Nat was a spy. It was just different kind of thinking. He told Rose so, explaining shortly what happened.

 

The woman next to him nodded thoughtfully. “Hm, I can see that. I think that’s just because you guys have a different kind of skill set.”

 

That was certainly true. Rose lead Steve to the metro, wanting to disappear from the crowded Manhattan streets. Heading straight to the Brooklyn both of them grew up with—more or less. “Did you live here for a long time?” Steve asked as they stepped off the metro two blocks away from his old neighborhood. “Hm, me? On and off. I mean, my parents and I lived a coupla blocks down. After they passed, I was in two foster homes. The second one, the one where I lived until I was eighteen, was close to my old home. You? Where did you live?”

 

She looked up at him with genuine interest and Steve swallowed. “Would you like to see?”

* * *

 

“Still the best damn bakery ‘n this city.” Steve mumbled, biting away at his third piece of cherry pie. He hated apple pie, but loved cherry.

 

Rose was sitting across the table from him in the tiny booth, sipping away at a cup of coffee. She had demolished only one piece of pie—at Steve’s questioning look, she had explained that her food intake was heightened in situations where her powers were used strongly only. So, today, she was full after one piece. Steve had shrugged it off and told the young waitress to pack away the rest of the pie for home. Rose hadn’t objected.

 

“Did you use to come here when you were—younger?” They had agreed to keep their talks casual—no matter what happened, many people could be listening in. Rose had especially vetoed any and all Avenger talk. _Work stays at the workplace, Steve_.

 

His chewing slowed and he nodded. “Yeah. Buck ‘n I, we used to take girls here for some cake before goin’ to the pictures.” His smile was slightly wistful. Rose suspected that the topic of Bucky Barnes was a painful one. _You’re preaching to the choir, man._

 

“So a regular ladykiller, huh? My, my, Steven Rogers, what would America think about that?” She sipped on her coffee, her grin clearly indicating that she was merely messing with him. Steve blushed head to toe, though, quickly empting his glass of water as though he needed to drink to speak.

 

“No, not at all—I mean, Buck was, the dames loved him. I just came along, ‘cuz it wasn’t quite proper for a gal to step out with a fella on her own. So she’d take a friend and Bucky’d take me.” He was still red around the tips of his ears.

 

“Oh—so you weren’t really dating the girl, you were—chaperoning?” Rose showed made quotation marks with her fingers as she said chaperone.

 

“Not for lack of tryin’, though. I didn’t quite look like this back then.” Steve muttered, pushing away the now empty plate in front of him. Rose nudged her glasses up her nose, before she crossed her arms on the table, placing her chin on her fist.

 

“What did you look like?”

 

Steve swallowed. “Hm, I was 5’4”, 95 lbs soaking wet. Skinny, scrawny. Caught every cold that made its rounds in New York.” He seemed ashamed to admit that, for whatever reason—she saw his fingers on the table twitch.

 

“Steve?”

 

He looked up at her and Rose smiled. “Being judged by what you look like is shitty. It’s wrong and prejudicial. These girls were stupid.”

 

He cleared his throat. “How would you know?”

 

Rose raised one eyebrow at him. “Do you want to know how many people asked me how I learned to speak English so well? Or how often I was asked to do someone’s math homework in school? And I’d like you to know that I almost failed math. Twice. And don’t get me started on how people react when they find out I’m a mutant, too.” She lowered her voice when she said the word mutant, glad that no other people were around. She’d been thrown out of too many establishments for admitting that out loud.

 

Steve looked embarrassed, swallowing. “Of course. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—“

 

She waved her hand. “It’s okay, I wasn’t attacking you. I was just—Saying that I have been judged before. I’m not trying to equate anything here. I don’t know how it felt like for you and you certainly don’t know what it felt like for me, but—being judged for what you look like sucks. That’s all I’m saying.”

 

Steve remained silent for a long moment, before he nodded. “Okay. Let’s go check out the shops you wanted to see. I think you still owe me some ice cream.” He smiled slightly at her. Rose laughed. “You can’t _still_ be hungry!”

  
“I might be having a growth spurt.”

 

“Oh dear God, please don’t.”

* * *

 

They spent the entire afternoon walking—Rose eventually looped her hand through Steve’s offered arm, smiling as he led her through the city. Now, she knew Brooklyn as well as he did, but it was interesting to see how much it had changed. Whenever they passed a spot he knew, he’d tell her a story about it—whenever they passed a spot she knew, she’d tell a story. His vivid descriptions mixed with his dry humor had her in stitches so many times, Steve actually had to catch her glasses once as they had bounced off her nose.

 

She came to the conclusion that there was a very firm difference between Captain America and Steve Rogers—while Cap rubbed her in all the wrong ways, Steve made her see things in a different light. Rose told him so as well and Steve laughed lowly. “Yes, I notice. You don’t seem to like me much in uniform.” There was a mischievous spark in his eyes as he said that.

  
“I just don’t like orders. Rubs me the wrong way, makes me want to ruffle my feathers and tell you to fuck off.”

 

“Which you did.”

 

“Aw, are you still holding a grudge?”

 

Steve shrugged—his face was completely devoid of any emotion. Only the upwards ticking corner of his mouth gave him away.

 

“C’mon soldier, I’ll buy you some ice cream, maybe that’ll make you forget I used the bad f word.”

 

He rolled his eyes. “Rosie-doll, I’m thinkin’ you didn’t fucking hear me when I said that I do cuss.”

 

She lost her footing and almost fell when he dropped the f-bomb (much less weird than _Rosie-doll_ —he had called her that once in exasperation and quickly apologized after. Rose had told him she didn’t mind and it eventually became a nickname he used). The woman burst into laughter so loud that people across the street turned to look at them strangely. This was New York, though, a laughing woman wasn’t really that strange. “Holy shit, that’s one for the history books.” she yelped, still gasping for breath under the uncontrollable giggles.

 

“Nobody would believe a word you say. I think the constitution says that Captain America doesn’t swear.” He proclaimed solemnly, using the constitution jokes that either Rose or Darcy had running the entire time. _It’s a third class felony to steal Captain America’s pancakes. It’s in the constitution that you have to ogle the Abs of America whenever possible._ And so on. Darcy had a word document on her computer with everything they came up with.

 

Rose nudged her elbow against his ribs. “Yeah, yeah, you dork. I get it, you’re hilarious.”

 

Steve smirked. “I’m here all week. Don’t forget to tip your waitress.”

 

She smiled again, shaking her head. “Hey, if this touchy thing is bothering you, you tell me, yeah?” Rose hadn’t really asked whether she could just hold onto his arm the entire time they walked—he had offered her his arm as they walked over a particularly disgusting part of the sidewalk, but she just hadn’t let go. Truth be told, she missed contact. More than this, she missed skin to skin contact—Rose had no idea that one could miss the warmth of skin as much as she did.

 

Steve blushed slightly, but shook his head rather firmly. “No, it doesn’t bother me.” He looked as if he wanted to add something, but decided against it. Rose didn’t push it. Steve turned towards the street ahead of them, nudging her hand on his arm gently as he stopped in front of an ice cream stand. “Hey, this looks good, what do you think?”

 

Rose took one look at the stand and knew that this wasn’t going to be happening. “Steve, no.”, she muttered, her voice low as though she was embarrassed. The man looked down at her in confusion. “Why?”

 

She nodded towards the stand again—more precisely at the red sticker against the white plastic housing of the ice cream stand. _We don’t offer service to mutants!_

 

People refusing to offer service to mutants was an issue, but nobody was addressing it. While the Democratic Party had some members that were eager to pass laws that would forbid mutant discrimination, it probably wasn’t going to happen all that soon. So, for now, mutants could be fired for being mutants—they could lose their houses, their jobs, their friends, they could basically be forbidden to buy tampons and toilet paper at CVS for being who they were. There was basically no law against it—thousands of dollars were spent on lawyers battling this inequality, yet there was basically no legal foundation claiming that it was inequality in the first place.

 

Rose looked up at Steve, her back to the stand. She watched him scan the surface for the sticker—she could see the exact second he read it. His eyes widened, he clenched his jaw and the hand that he had used to nudge hers on his arm pressed tightly against hers. “Does that happen a lot?”, he asked quietly, not taking his eyes off the stand. Rose nodded. “It’s normal, I’m afraid. Worse in the suburbs.” Her voice was still a whisper.

 

Of course, the man in the ice cream stand wouldn’t know she was a mutant—her mutation didn’t manifest visibly at all. But Rose was disgusted by the idea of supporting someone like that. Steve seemed to think similarly. “It ain’t right.” He hissed through gritted teeth and she nodded.

 

“I know. But there’s nothing we can do.”

 

Steve snorted, fumbling for his phone. He let go of her hand and arm to do that. “The hell there isn’t. Take off your glasses and let your hair down.”

 

Rose instinctively wanted to protest, but when she saw he opened Twitter, she got the message. Quickly, she slid the glasses into the breast pocket of her black and red plaid shirt (she got it from the men aisle, because they had _breast pockets_!) and pulled the elastic out of her hair, which tumbled over her shoulders like a black waterfall. In the light, it looked more brown, though. Steve pulled off his baseball cap, stuffing the bendy side into his back pocket, before they turned so their faces could be seen next to the stand. Rose made sure the face of the man wasn’t seen, though—he was trash, but she knew that was a lawsuit waiting to happen. They made angry faces and Rose thumbed at the sign when Steve took the picture.

  
He typed it quickly and showed her what he wrote before actually tweeting. She hesitantly nodded—there was no reason for them to hide that she was a mutant anymore. Hell, she was on a team with a damn _God_ as well as an Android. For whatever reason, it made her feel more protected.

 

> **_Steven G. Rogers_ ** _@CapRogers_
> 
> _I didn’t land a plane in the Arctic for this shit. @OverrideRose can’t even buy ice cream at this stand. #CapStandsForMutantRights #MutantRights_

 

Rose quickly retweeted with a blink of her eye and then attempted to readjust her hair, yet that was impossible without a mirror. Her hair tended to be quite unruly. So, she fished the baseball cap out of Steve’s back pocket and put it on. Steve gave the stand another angry glare and then lead her away.

 

Surprisingly, Rose felt good about herself.

 

“Do you think that’ll do anything?” she turned to look at Steve—he shrugged.

 

“I don’t know. The only other choice I had was to beat the guy, but Darcy would have had my head for that.” Steve carefully offered her his arm again, as if he was unsure whether she’d take it. No disgusting sidewalks here, after all. (Not more disgusting than usually, actually.)

 

Rose smirked and took his arm. “Yeah. Yeah she would.”

* * *

 

They were back for barely a minute when they were ambushed. Well, Steve was ambushed. Darcy flopped herself at him, hugging his giant shoulders and pushing kisses on his cheeks and his head. “You are a god among ants, Steven Rogers, I love you and your precious cinnamon roll face!” she yelped in glee before she let him go, bouncing up and down.

 

Steve was a picture of a confused golden Retriever puppy and Rose could see him slowly repeat _cinnamon roll face_ as though he had to remind himself he really had just heard that. “It’s a meme.”, Rose offered and Steve fumbled for a tiny notepad in his jacket and quickly took a few notes.

 

Darcy was tapping her foot excitedly. “Tony is so upset, it’s _awesome_. Pepper and Bruce are talking him down from buying the rights to ice cream. Or buying the right to make laws against shitty mutant-discrimination. I don’t think Tony knows you can’t buy laws-- not legally anyway.”

 

“Or he simply doesn’t care.” Rose offered as she followed Darcy, who waved both her and Steve behind her, leading them to the community kitchen, where some of the Avengers plus significant others were currently chatting away.

 

Tony noticed them first and he grabbed Rose’s arm, wrapping his arm around her shoulders once she was next to him. “Do you see this face, Pep? Do you? She can’t get ice cream in this city! Pep, I have to buy New York now, it’s official.” He squeezed Rose’s cheeks between his fingers until she batted his hands away.

 

“Tony, calm your ass down.” The brunette muttered the same time Pepper gave him an exasperated sigh. “Tony, you cannot buy New York.”

 

“Then I’m buying the Congress and the Senate! I want a law to prevent this shit.”

 

“Tony, that’s not possible.” Pepper sighed again.

 

“Why is this the first time I hear of this? Why?” Tony demanded, looking around in the room. Rose sighed.

  
“Because nobody dares to complain, Tony. There are no laws against mutant discrimination and if one speaks up about it, they are basically placing themselves on a Wanted sign. It’s too dangerous to say anything for actual mutants out there.” Bruce explained quietly, his eyes laying compassionately on Rose. She smiled.

 

Tony frowned. Clint was leaning across the table, his eyebrows pushed together. “Wasn’t Charles working on something like that?” he asked suddenly into the room—the question was obviously directed at her. Rose nudged Tony to get him to let her go, before she sat down next to the archer. “Yes, he wanted to get some sort of mutant equality act going. But we didn’t have enough leverage to actually get it through the House of Representatives. Let alone the Senate. Also, he wasn’t a lawyer, so.”

 

Pepper looked at Rose thoughtfully, before taking a breath. “I need to ask you a favor, Rose, if that is okay.”

 

Rose looked up, nodding. “Sure, what’s up?”

 

“I thought about making a few changes in the company, regarding mutant safety. Would you come to my office tomorrow, so I can—check them through with you?”

Rose blinked. Pepper was leaning against the counter—she was standing next to Tony, who had an arm around her waist. Bruce was leaning closely to Tony, muttering about _calming down_ and _not overthrowing the government_. Bruce’s placement clearly indicated that there was a hand on Tony’s ass.

 

“I’m not a lawyer.” she offered carefully and Pepper nodded. “I know that. But as you said, mutants rarely make themselves known in public for fear of discrimination. If you could just give me a few pointers—you are the only mutant I know, the only one not afraid to reveal herself. Maybe it’ll make people feel safer in Stark Industries.”

 

That made sense—but she still didn’t want to be a representative of the mutant party at the company, which she told Pepper as well. The CEO reassured her however, that this would be purely a consultant-type of deal—more a favor to her than a job. That was certainly better.

 

> **_Tony Fucking Stark_ ** _@IronMan_
> 
> _We’re making SI more mutant friendly. Fuck mutant discrimination! #IronManForMutantRights_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooo, are those crazy kids cute or are they cute? Leave me comments and tell me what you think! Thanks for reading c:


	21. Guilt is a cold bedfellow, Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: mention of alcoholism
> 
> Woop another chapter! I'm feeling the muse here, kids. Next up: Bruce and Rose talk about boys, the nature of the relationship between Charles, Erik and Rose is revealed and Steve asks Rose out for coffee. Also, someone drops a truth-bomb at dinner.

Rose checked into Tony’s lab the next afternoon, but the billionaire wasn’t there—a quick question to FRIDAY confirmed that he was in fact sleeping for the first time in 48 hours. Rose took her laptop and sat down next to Bruce, in his lab—she didn’t like being alone. The scientist greeted her with a smile, she smiled back.

 

They worked in silence for hours—only the _tap-tap-tap_ of fingers hitting keyboard keys was to be heard. She was so buried into the code she was working on, Rose didn’t even notice that Bruce got up and left twice to get a refill on his tea. The second time, he stopped next to her as he returned, reading over her shoulder for a moment, yet maintaining a proper distance. Bruce was all about personal space. Rose turned around to find him standing there. “Any thoughts, Doc?” 

 

Bruce smiled. “No. Tony was right. You’re doing really well.”

 

“Nah, he just brags.” Rose blushed ever so slightly, turning back to her laptop, before she stopped and turned around. “Can I ask you a personal question? It’s just, I’d rather not step on any toes here and—nobody has _said_ anything—“

 

Bruce looked at her face in confusion, before he laughed slightly. “ _Oh_. I suppose nobody did tell you. Yes, Tony, Pepper and I are—a trio? Triad? I suppose there is a better term somewhere.”

 

Rose nodded. “Okay. That’s what I thought. I just didn’t want to assume—“

 

Bruce smiled. “I know, I understand. That was a fun thing to explain to the group when it happened, trust me.”

 

“Oh? You got together after the Avengers thing?” Rose raised both hands, palms up. “Of course, it ain’t any of my business, so if you tell me to fuck off, I totally will.”

 

Bruce chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s okay. I don’t mind speaking about it. Yes, we—got together. Pepper and Tony were already an item before New York. Tony kept pursuing me after—we worked together regularly and there was… tension, I suppose. I told him that I wasn’t going to help him cheat on his girlfriend and the next day, Pepper Potts comes into my lab and asks me whether I would be open to a relationship with both of them. She was wearing these white heels with red soles. I never stood a chance.” He smiled fondly.

 

Rose resisted the urge to _aww_ at him. “That sounds marvelous. I’m happy for you.” Bruce gushed and nodded, sitting back down.

 

For a moment he returned back to his work (his heart wasn't in it, though, Rose could tell from the tentative touches of his fingers against the keyboard). He stopped and turned around to her. “May I ask you a question as well? Of a similar nature?”

 

Rose nodded. “Sure. Let’s talk about boys, Brucie-Bear.”

 

He rolled his eyes, before his expression softened slightly. “Charles Xavier and you were— I’m just asking, because with the way Barton reacted about you helping a guy named—Erik? I was confused about what was actually happening. Or what had happened.”

 

Rose leaned back in her chair, giving herself a moment to answer. “Charles and I got close when I started the program—the X Men program. We were a couple pretty quickly. It’s just-- we clicked, you know. I noticed afterwards that there was some tension between Charles and Erik—tension of the, you know, unresolved sexual nature. So, I talked to Erik about it, who blocked everything, idiot that he is. Bottom line, the boys were in love with each other, Charles and I were in love with each other and Erik and I were being weird.”  She sighed. “I wanted to talk to them about it—find a solution of a sort, you know? Maybe something just like what you guys have—I’m sure it would have worked nicely. But—Charles was gone before I could suggest anything.”

Bruce nodded knowingly. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

 

Rose smiled a little wistfully. “Thank you. What’s worse is that I lost Erik after Charles was gone, you know? One bad day and everyone I loved was either gone or out to get me.”

 

“I know a bit of what that’s like.” Bruce muttered, running his hand through the mess of curly, starting-to-get-grey-hair.

 

“The Hulk, you mean?”

 

He nodded. “Yes. I made a mistake and—it destroyed my entire life.”

 

“You have people who love you, with or without the other guy, Bruce.”

 

“I suppose so. But you do, too.” Rose decided that Bruce Banner was never wrong.

* * *

 

He was going to ask her. Steve was _sure_ he was going to ask her—he had the question lined up in his head, he knew exactly how he’d stand and what he’d do with his hands. He wouldn’t stick them into his pockets or tilt his head to the side like Bucky used to do, because that had only worked for Bucky Barnes—the few times Steve had tried it, he had been laughed it. True, those were old stories coming from the time where he was half his current size and caught every sniffle that made its rounds in the neighborhood, but they still struck to him.

 

Sam’s constant texts of encouragement weren’t helping, though. It was 3 pm and he was still contemplating going to her (which he had been since he had showered after his run, so, around 6:30 in the morning, or the  _ass-crack-of-dawn_ as Darcy called it) and Sam had sent close to 17 text messages telling him to _JUST DO IT_. He also sent a video to a guy yelling something of a similar nature for a couple of minutes. Steve knew he would have to ask Darcy later for more clarification on what he was certain was a meme he just hadn’t come across yet.

 

A quick question to FRIDAY had told him that Rose was in fact in Bruce’s lab today, since Tony was sleeping ( _finally_ ), so he took the stairs down to the labs to give himself time—or rather to prolong his suffering. He found her in Bruce’s lab indeed, bent over a laptop and typing away furiously, a gleam of victory in the brown eyes he had grown to care for a lot. She didn’t look up when he came in, but Bruce did—the man had a knowing grin on his face and quickly ducked to return to his own work. Steve stood behind Rose for a few minutes, surprised when she _still_ didn’t turn around to speak to him. He cleared his throat, which made her jump in her seat and turn around, one hand placed against where her heart would be. _Or her breast. Goddamn it, keep it together Rogers!_

 

“Steve! You scared the shit out of me! Have you been here for long?”

 

He smiled, giving her his best grin—USO tour patented. “’M sorry, Rosie-doll, I didn’t want to scare you. No, just came here.”

 

His actions seemed to confuse her thoroughly—she wiggled her fingers for something to grasp on, turning herself to face him on the chair. “Okay. What’s up?”

 

Steve fought his instinct to tuck his hands into his pockets successfully. “I was just wonderin’ whether you would want get some coffee. Darcy said there is a new café that opened across the street and I wanted to give it a try.” He blurted that out way too quickly—Rose’s eyebrows pushed together and she parted her lips slightly, her look one of confusion rather than glee for a moment, before it changed into—was she flustered? The way her cheeks darkened ever so slightly and the way she began to fumble at the seam of her shirt seemed to suggest so. “What, you mean, now?”

 

Steve shrugged. “Yes, if you’d be willing.”

 

Rose looked to Bruce, who was very _clearly_ only pretending that he wasn’t listening in. She turned back to look at him and got up, nudging her glasses up her nose. “Yeah, okay, sure. You need something, Bruce?”

 

The scientist looked up, shook his head with a smile and moved his hands as though he intended to shoo them out. “Yeah, yeah, we’re going.” Rose grinned at him and got up, pulling on her jacket (Charles’ jacket, dark brown leather, warm and soft and old).

* * *

 

The café was actually great; Darcy had been right. (Darcy would argue that she was always right, but that was beside the point).

 

They sat outside, enjoying the cool breeze. Rose lifted her face to the sun, letting it warm her skin—she couldn't quite keep her eyes open due to the lack of a decent pair of sunglasses. As usual, they were attempting to go incognito, though, so she had kept her normal glasses on. Steve came back quickly with the orders—he went for a simple, black coffee with tons of sugar and Rose for a latte with a hint of coconut. She had encouraged Steve to take a sip to taste it since he had made a face at her order, but he had kindly said no. That was okay, she’d get him there.

  
Truth was, she was a bit scared by the invite. From the way he had shifted from one foot to the other it had seemed to her as if he held a romantic intention towards her—and that was just weird. Not negative, Rose had to admit as she looked inside the café and watched him wait in line to order. She found herself surprised by the idea of it, but warmth spread in her belly at the thought of it and Rose had been with enough people to tell that this was attraction. Physical attraction had always been there (she wasn’t blind and every damn person in that tower was beautiful), but also some kind of emotional attraction. She kept remembering the way his jaw had ticked in fury as he looked at that ice cream stand, ready to rip apart every piece of injustice he could find. It had been endearing, really. Still, the idea of entering any kind of commitment sent her into a spiral of fear—the last time she had been emotionally close with someone had been Charles (and arguably Erik) and that hadn’t ended so well. Also, they were just now trying to figure out how to work together as a team. Rose sighed. _This was much easier when I was twenty-two._

 

Now, after he had returned with both their cups and they had taken their obligatory first sips, Rose felt awkward silence stretch between them. She didn’t know what to say and he seemed _so_ far out of his comfort zone. Poor man. Steve fumbled for words the way she fumbled at the seam of her shirt.

 

“I need to ask you somethin’.”, he muttered, quiet enough for her to question whether he had even said it out loud.

 

“Okay. What do you wanna ask me?” she answered quietly, trying to keep her voice steady.

 

His brows furrowed. “There’s a problem, though, doll. I need you to promise me to keep it a secret.” Rose moved back, a bit dumbfounded. _What_?

 

“A secret?”

 

Steve swallowed, leaning forward on his elbows—Rose tried to _not_ watch the play of muscle on his shoulders as he did so. She failed miserably.

 

“I need to ask you to do me a favor, but I don’t want the team to find out.”

Rose brushed her hair behind her ears—she had kept it open this time, long, dark waves cascading over her shoulders. “Steve, I’m not comfortable with you asking me to _lie_ to my friends. Our friends.”

 

Steve nodded, folding his fingers across the coffee cup—his hands were so large, he could easily grasp all the way around with one hand. “I understand. But Rose, I—I’m at a loss. I _need_ your help.”

 

She sighed—so this wasn’t about romantic intentions at all. _Great_. Disappointment made her shoulders tense. “Steve, I would like to help you. You know that. I don’t want to lie, though. I cannot compromise this—the team. Why can’t you tell them? The team? Are you investigating them?”

 

The suggestion made Steve jerk back from his relaxed posture, shaking his head in disbelief. “I would _never_. I trust them, Rose, with my life. It’s just—“ His jaw tightened.

  
“This is more important to you than your life?” she suggested carefully and Steve nodded.

 

She chewed on her lower lip, before shaking her head. “No, I’m sorry. I did a lot of things, but I never lied. I can’t.”

 

Steve made a frustrated sound at the back of his throat, rubbing his hand over his face. “I’m stuck, Rose. _I’m stuck_.”

 

“With what? Just tell me, Jesus Christ, Steve, it can’t be _that_ bad? Why are you scared that the others are going to find out?”

 

He swallowed. “They may make me stop.”

 

Rose nodded slowly. “But what if you need to stop? What if it is bad for you?”

 

Steve said nothing, his fingers trembling as he rubbed his hand over his mouth.

 

“Your life and your health matters, Steve. And so do your friends. Don’t shut people out because you’re scared.”

 

He snorted, looking at her coldly. “You’re one to talk.”

 

Rose took a deep breath before answering. Yelling at him would do her no good. “Yeah, I’m one to talk. I shut everyone I loved out and spiraled directly into depression and alcoholism. I did it because I _wanted_ to feel bad, because I needed to punish myself for something I didn’t do. Guilt is a cold bedfellow, Steve. If you want my help, I’ll help. I will not lie for you, though. I’m sorry.”

 

Silence stretched between the two of them yet again and Rose sighed. “I’m going to go. You’re free to shoot disappointed looks at me while I leave.” So, she did. Steve didn’t do anything to stop her.

 

When she came back to the lab, she ignored all of Bruce’s curious looks.

* * *

 

Dinner was torture. Steve was there against Rose’s expectation. They weren’t cooking or cleaning up that day, which made it even worse—he just kept sitting on the dinner table, sipping at his beer angrily. ( _Only_ Steve fucking Rogers could make sipping beer look angry) All conversations towards him were dodged by one-word answers or nods on his part, making Rose feel increasingly uncomfortable. Clint kept looking at her, then at Steve and then back at her, raising his eyebrows. Rose would shrug and finish off her plate so she could get out as quickly as possible—for someone in such a terrible mood, Steve sure didn’t seem like he wanted to leave. He kept sitting there, eating slowly, methodically, as though he had an elaborate plan to drive her crazy. _This isn’t about you, not everything is about you_.

 

After a while, the others just began to ignore Steve—especially Tony insisted on making loud conversation with Vision, who calmly and meticulously answered any question Tony asked him. Natasha kept her eyes on Steve as she ate—Rose peeked over the table and saw Jane scribbling away on a napkin, while Darcy was bumping the other woman’s arm several times to get her to eat.

 

“I’m looking for Bucky.”

 

Rose looked up and silence erupted in the dining room—Steve was staring ahead. Only Natasha looked unsurprised by this—Sam looked positively shocked. “Bucky.” Tony repeated. “Bucky Barnes?”

 

Steve nodded. “He is the Winter Soldier. The man they sent to kill me at the Triskelion. I think—I think Hydra had him all this time. Zola experimented on him 1945—I think, maybe that was how he survived falling. When he saw me again in DC—he didn’t even know me.” Steve’s jaw ticked in the way it always did when he was upset. Rose felt guilt coiling up in her gut.

 

“I’m looking for him. He remembered me in the end, pulled me out of the Potomac. I’m trying to—I need to help him.”

 

“Steve…” Darcy whispered, her hand placed over her mouth, clearly disguising shock. Tony swallowed a gulp of his whiskey, before he got up. “Well, Capsicle, why don’t you wait another year? Vision, Rosie-Bear, come on, chop, chop, we got ourselves a missing persons case.” He clapped twice, clearly pretending to be calm and his usual self on the outside—Rose saw something in his eyes she hadn’t seen in a while; He had looked at her like that when he promised not to lie to her back in the med bay.

 

Steve shook his head. “Tony, you don’t understand.”

 

Stark sighed deeply, leaning forward. He braced his hands on the backrest of his chair, looking at Steve as though he wanted to challenge him to talk him out of this. “I’m sure I understand perfectly fine.”

 

The Captain looked up. “Tony, I think he might have been sent to kill your father.”

That clearly got his attention. Tony didn’t say anything, but shock was written all over his face. Pepper was the one who spoke—she reached out to place one hand on one of Tony’s. “How do you know that?”

 

“There were records of things Hydra did. I don’t know for sure, but—it’s possible.”

 

Bruce’ voice was soft as he spoke. “So Hydra did this? Your friend had no part of it?”

 

Steve shook his head vehemently. “Bucky cared for Howard. He would have never done so if he had an ounce of free will.”

 

Clint was looking at Natasha, eyebrows pushed together as though he hadn’t known about it. From the way Natasha met his gaze, a little bit of guilt in it, Rose suspected that he really hadn’t.

 

“Mind control is a powerful thing.” Rose muttered, pushing her plate away from her before she got up. She looked at Vision, who nodded and mimicked her. “You crazy kids go ahead.” Tony muttered, moving his hand in a dismissive motion towards them. “I’ll need a minute.”

 

Rose and Vision left the group, heading for Tony’s lab immediately. Neither one of them did well with confrontation. “Tony is very upset.” Vision mused as they walked. Rose nodded. “Yes, I’d be upset as well.”

 

“Do you think it is his fault? Sergeant Barnes? Should he be held accountable for his actions?” Rose stopped by the elevator, nudging her thumb against the pad, leaning against the wall as they waited. She didn’t answer right away, taking her time.

 

“If Ultron had had a stronger grasp on me, if he had made me access those nuclear codes and—I don’t know. If I had hurt people while he was controlling me. Would you have held me accountable for the pain of said people?”

 

Vision looked at her wistfully. “No. It would not have been your choice.”

 

Rose nodded, turning her head to the elevator doors that slid open. “ _Exactly_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo, thoughts? Ideas? Opinions? Leave me comments, I'd be happy to chat with you! Also, I'm sort of looking for someone to bounce ideas off on? Like a beta-reader, but with a bit more influence on the plot. (it's my first fic, I need opinions, bear with me). If you're interested, leave me a comment or just message me on my tumblr! It's xfayewrites :)


	22. Hydra is to blame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tony, Rose and Vision find a lead, Steve has some feelings and Clint is not impressed.

Her head dropped on the table and she let go of the symbiosis without any warning. “ _Urgh_ this is _infuriating_!” Vision gasped as he felt the symbiosis slip and as usual, he needed just a little moment to get back to his own self. They hadn’t trained her technokinesis using the symbiosis just yet, but Rose knew they were well on their way to do so. She suspected that Natasha wanted to have her back into her old form beforehand. Rose was inclined to just do whatever Natasha said—just like Pepper, the redhead had this way about her that made Rose just _obey_ whatever she said. _I’m thirty-two and still under her thumb_.

 

She turned her head to look at Vision, who was sitting a bit farther away from her, staring at the hologram pictures of street cameras and videos of men moving too fast to see. He seemed— _annoyed_. Rose wanted to smooch his face, that’s how cute it was. “I do not enjoy it either. We seem to find no record of the Winter Soldier.” Rose was tempted to say _Thanks Captain Obvious_ , but she refrained from doing so. Vision was her friend, he didn’t need to be sassed all the time. That’s what she had Clint for.

 

“How long have we been at it?” she questioned and Vision blinked at her—Rose looked out the window and saw that it was already long past sunset. “Four hours.” Vision decided calmly, slowly getting up from his spot and walking over to the shelves, looking for something. “You need sustenance, friend.” He muttered at her questioning gaze and Rose nodded. They had been in symbiosis ever since they stepped out of the elevator, trying to use their combined powers to find the man in question. Nobody had come down to the lab—not Steve, not Tony, not Nat or Clint or even Sam. Vision rummaged through the counters and sighed as he found nothing edible. Rose suspected that he had expected that.

 

“It’s okay, I can go upstairs and find something.” Rose explained, getting up from her seat and sticking her hands deep into the pockets of her jeans. Vision made a face at her, as though he didn’t believe she’d get up into the kitchen on her own two feet, but Rose stuck her tongue out at him. He chuckled slightly. “Very well. I shall keep looking.” Rose nodded, nudging her head against his arm as she passed him. “You want something, too?” Vision shook his head, but muttered _thank you_ under his breath. He was already focused on the next set of sloppy, shaky camera footage. Rose resisted the urge to pat his head and instead walked into the elevator.

 

She exited at the common floor, finding it to be almost creepily empty—the group had obviously split up, leaving Rose to wonder about what had happened once she and Vision had exited the situation. She quickly sent a text from her phone to Clint (mentally, obviously, because Rose sucked at typing and walking at the same time), asking what had happened after she left. She sent Natasha the same text.

 

The quiet should indicate that nobody was around, but once Rose entered the kitchen she found herself in the company of Steve. He was sitting on one of the barstools, elbows pushed up against the counter, hands folded in front of his mouth, staring into nothing. Rose didn’t say anything until she was in his field of view. “Hey.” she muttered and Steve swallowed, folding his arms in front of his chest. “Hey.” He responded out of politeness only.

 

Rose smiled ever so slightly, before turning to the fridge, pulling out leftovers from dinner. She placed the bowls in front of her, taking two plates and forks, before setting them in front of her and Steve. She sat down on the barstool opposite of him, beginning to stack her plate with food. Steve left his untouched. “Vision and I got through a bunch of footage already. We haven’t got a trail yet, but it’s only a matter of time.”

 

Silence. She didn’t dare to look up, rather continued eating. Rose had never really been bothered by the quiet, but the tension in this room was so thick, she could basically cut through it. She _knew_ however that her decision had been right—helping Steve at the cost of lying to everyone else was not something she was comfortable with and like hell was Rose going to do something she was uncomfortable with just because he asked. Those times were long over.

 

“Tony is upset.” Steve muttered and Rose looked up, just then noticing that his eyes were slightly red. Had he been crying?

 

“You look upset too.”

 

Steve snorted but there was no amusement in that noise—just resignation. “ _Yeah_. I don’t think he’ll ever speak to me again. He’s mad I kept it from him for that long.”

 

Rose strongly resisted the urge to tell him _I told you so_ successfully.

 

 “He’ll come around. I guess it was a big shock, but it wasn’t really your friend who did this. Hydra is to blame. Tony will see reason—Pepper and Bruce will make him see reason.” She suggested quietly.

 

Steve sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. “I’m sorry that I pushed you before. I don’t like lying any more than you do, but I just—I wanted to keep him safe.” His hands dropped on the table again and his face was turned towards the surface. Rose didn’t move until she saw tears drag across those impossibly long lashes before splashing against the table. “Oh, shit, _Steve_.” She whispered, getting up in a quick movement and standing next to him in just a moment. Rose reached out, grabbing his shoulders and pushing his body towards hers—they were nearly the same height now, with him sitting and her standing, so she gently placed his head on her shoulder, wrapping her arms around him as tightly as she could manage. Steve remained stiff for a moment, but melted into the hug just a second later, his face buried in her neck as his shoulders shook with silent tears.

 

Rose rubbed her fingers through the hair in his neck, making soothing noises she imagined would work on an infant as much as they would on a broken soldier. “Hey, it’s alright. Everything is okay. You did good, Steve. You did.” She kept muttering nonsense, words strung together by the way they sounded soothing rather than actual meaning. The man in her arms seemed to relax though, even though he didn’t let her go—she felt his giant hands splayed against her back, holding himself close to her as though he savored every bit of physical interaction he could get. Holy hell, when had this man last gotten a hug?

 

He didn’t make one sound—Rose kept checking whether he was even breathing. The only sign of life she got from Steve were his fingers clutching against her shirt. “When’s the last time you got to cry like this, hm? All bottled up, Steve, ‘s wrong. Shh, it’s okay. I’m here ‘n soon we’ll find your friend, I promise. I promise we won’t stop till we find him.” She muttered, peppering gentle kisses against the side of his head, directly into dirty blonde hair. For a long moment, there was nothing but the two of them—but then Steve gently withdrew, absentmindedly wiping over his cheeks. Rose reached out to brush away the last tear stains with her thumb, smiling gently. “I’m sorry—“ he began and Rose shook her head. “Don’t you dare apologize for having feelings, Rogers. I’m going to have to punch your pretty face.” He actually smiled at that; it was a weak smile, but a smile nonetheless. She rubbed her hands over his shoulder, before leaning back and considering him for a moment. “Wanna go downstairs and help? Or take a nap first? You look really tired, to be honest with you.” Steve shook his head, clearing his throat to destroy any evidence of the tears he had shed. “I’d rather just go and help.”

  
Rose smiled gently down to him and on an impulse, leaned forward, took his face into her hands and kissed his forehead. “Alright. But you’re helping me carry down food. I’m still fucking _starving_.”

 

Steve’s ears turned slightly red, but he nodded obediently nonetheless. “Yes ma’am.”

* * *

 

Tony found them hours later—it was the crack of dawn and the lack of sleep was clearly visible on their faces. Rose was basically crawling over the tables as she pointed at camera footage. Vision was absentmindedly floating in the air as he considered the woman’s rambles while Steve stood next to her, fingers twitching occasionally as if he was just waiting to catch her, because it was just a matter of time until she fell on her face. “No, don’t you see that? See, it twitches here! There are frames missing!” Rose yelled louder than she needed to, causing Steve to flinch. His eyes were so focused on the frames that none of them really noticed Tony as he approached—only when he cleared his throat and said “She’s right.”, the three of them turned around to consider the man behind them. Truthfully, Tony looked like crap, Rose thought—it was clearly visible that he hadn’t slept even a minute. Steve and Tony looked at one another for a minute, until the older (or younger? Tony certainly looked older) approached them, pointing hurriedly at the frame. “I see it too. Nothing happens, that’s why it doesn’t look like there’s anything missing, but there is.”

 

“Exactly!” Rose raised her hands to the sky with a relieved sigh. “Thank Thor I’m not the only one who sees this!” Yeah, she was hanging around Darcy too much at this point.

 

“You hang around Darcy too much.” Tony commented drily and Rose chuckled as they quickly flipped through footage to find another example of missing frames. A thought struck her and she turned to her friend in red “Vision which one was the one I said—“ Vision moved his hand and the footage in question appeared out of thin air, showing a store camera where several seconds were skipped—certainly enough for someone to get into the store if they were fast. “They could be malfunctions.” Steve sighed in defeat—there wasn’t much fight left in his shoulders, to be perfectly honest. Rose looked at him sadly, worrying at her lower lip. Steve had been passive for the last hour, really. It seemed as though Vision and her had been his last hope in finding Bucky—and they were failing.

 

“Eh, not really.” Tony muttered, moving his hands frantically as he looked at several pieces of footage, going back to fight on DC’s streets. Rose looked up to watch Stark, thoughts carving a deep frown onto his forehead—she looked at the footage and suddenly, she _saw_ it. “ _Holy fucking shit!_ ” she yelped, stopping next to Stark, pulling his head down and planting a kiss onto greasy hair. “You’re a fucking genius!” she exclaimed, climbing on top of the table and pulling the footage apart, so there were essentially two holograms in the air—one showing the street camera footage of Cap, Natasha and Sam attempting to get away from the Hydra goons, one showed the videos that hit the news later that day, shot from the helicopters above. “Do you see it?” she asked into the room and Vision frowned deeply, before nodding. “The street cameras have the same malfunctions. We never see Sergeant Barnes.”

 

“But we do see him here.” Tony pointed at the hologram showing the news footage. His eyebrows shot up and he grinned widely. “Rosie-Bear, I’m going to buy you an island for this. It’s the distance. Barnes is the one fucking up the street cams. He couldn’t mess with the camera on the helicopter, it was too far away.” Rose nodded wildly, glee spreading over her face. “ _Exactly_! Either he had some transmitter on him that fucks with the cameras or it’s _something_ that is in his super-arm. Either way, this is awesome.” Steve had been silent the entire time, but hope sparked in his eyes. “How does that help?”

 

Tony was the one who answered, sitting down on one of the chairs and barking orders at FRIDAY to sort the footage by date, time and location, starting from the day that Steve was pulled out of the Potomac. “It’s a pattern, Capsicle.” He muttered, looking up at Steve before sighing and waving his hand to bring the man closer with an exasperated look on his face. _Pepper and Bruce apparently fixed the issue_ , Rose thought. “You couldn’t find your friend because there was no pattern to follow. Now we have one. FRIDAY, order food and caffeine. It’s gonna be a long day.”

* * *

 

“Go to sleep, Capsicle.” Steve blinked slowly, as though he had to physically detach his eyes from the computer screen he had been staring at for the last seven hours. He looked up to see Tony standing above him, a similarly sleepless expression on the older man’s face. But Tony had just recently slept (for his standards, he slept twelve hours every 36 hours, apparently), so he wasn’t due for a nap in a while. “’M fine.” Steve muttered and turned back to the screen. Tony groaned. “I know you’re fine, but you’re goin’ to sleep anyway, Rogers. And on your way take her with you.” Tony nodded towards a direction behind them and Steve turned to see Rose sprawled out on the table on her back, fingers twitching on occasion, causing the holograms that hovered over her body to move and shift. Last time he looked at her she had been laying there the same way, staring up at footage as she moved her hands to make certain videos return to her attention. She must have fallen asleep during that, her glasses already down her nose and laying against her mouth. The glass fogged up with every breath she took through parted lips.

 

“I’ll get her to bed and come right back.” Steve decided and got up, nearly bumping into Tony as he went. The man shortly thought about lifting her up and carrying her to bed, but he knew Rose too well at this point to do that. She wouldn’t appreciate being carried around like an infant without her permission. So, he leaned over her and softly ran a hand over her arm to wake her. Her eyes snapped open and she jolted awake, gaze unfocused until she saw his face above her. “I’m awake.” She babbled uselessly, her eyebrows pushing together as she noticed something lying on her mouth. Rose pulled the glasses off and rolled her eyes. “Shit. That _definitely_ looked attractive.” She grumbled and Steve couldn’t help but smile. “It did.”

 

With a roll off her eyes she sat up and Steve leaned forward to place a hand on the small of her back, gently pushing her off the table. “What are you doing?” Surprise was written all over her face as she stared at him, but Steve didn’t stop until she was standing on shaky legs. “You’re going to bed. Now. You’ve been up since 5 am _yesterday_.” She looked as though she was about to protest but caved only when she saw Stark look at the screen in front of him grimly, waving into the general direction of the exit. “Let Capsicle tuck you in or I’ll tell Romanoff.” Rose rolled her eyes and muttered _only you would tattle to Natasha_ as she stomped into the direction of the elevator.

 

Steve scrambled behind her to follow, knowing that she’d probably pull up similar holograms in her room if she wasn’t put into bed quite literally. She was stubborn that way. _Now who does this remind you of, punk? Now you know how it was to take care of your sorry ass_. Steve’s neck tingled at the memory, but he remained silent apart from a single jaw-cracking yawn as they stood there in the elevator. “You going to sleep too?” she asked as she echoed his yawn, stretching her arms up far above her head. Steve tried not to look ( _failed_ not to look might be a better description) and ended up making a non-committal sound. Rose didn’t comment on his lack of a response, but rather just nodded along, staring at the elevator doors with tired eyes.

 

Once they reached her apartment Steve turned around to leave again, the _Goodnight_ already on his lips, but her hand reached out and took his. “Come on, I need your help with somethin’.” Steve, ever the gentleman, would never say no—his ma would never let him hear the end of it if he did –so he nodded along obediently and followed her into the general direction of where he suspected her bedroom to be. Rose toed off her shoes and grabbed a pair of soft sleep pants and a giant T-Shirt from her closet (it looked normal to him, so it had to be huge on her). “Take off your shoes and wait.” She ordered before disappearing into her bathroom with yet another yawn. In record time she emerged, glasses already dangling from her fingers. Steve noticed that she wasn’t wearing a bra anymore and that the makeup she had worn had been scrubbed off her face. Carefully she placed the glasses on her dresser and then crawled into the bed on all fours, pulling the duvet up to her nose. Steve blinked. “Rose?”

 

“Mhm?”

 

“You said you needed my help.”

 

She turned around to face him and blinked. “Oh, yeah. I lied to get you in here. Get in the bed, Steve.”

 

That certainly got his attention. He was certain his mouth stood open as he scrambled for _something_ to say. “No—I mean, I can’t—“

 

“You aren’t gonna go to sleep, you’re going to go back to the lab the second I close my eyes. Tell me I’m wrong.” She was sitting on the bed now, rubbing the palms of her hands over her eyes so hard it made him twist. Didn’t that hurt?

 

Steve swallowed and for a second considered lying. “You’re not wrong.”

 

Rose yawned again, pointing at the other side of the bed. “Get in. If I’m not allowed to work, neither are you.”

 

“But—“

 

“ _Now_ , Rogers. This bed is big enough for you, Thor and arguably both Maximoffs. I promise I won’t get grabby. Just calm the fuck down and go to sleep.” She gave him a pointed look, but Steve was frozen in place. Only when she raised one eyebrow he knew there was no way he was winning this argument. If he left, she’d start working in her apartment. He could see the challenge in her eyes. So, Steve sighed and carefully lifted the duvet to get into the other side of the bed, on the far end, as far as he could get away from her. Rose sighed at that but seemed content, snuggling back into the covers and muttering “Goodnight, Steve.”

 

Steve was stiff as a plank as he stared at the back of her head. He supposed he could just wait until she fell asleep and then sneak out. FRIDAY wouldn’t tattle on him. He didn’t even notice that his eyes closed and he fell into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

 

Rose woke up warmer than she had in years. The tips of her fingers were generally cold, just like her toes—especially since she liked to sleep with one half of her body out from under the covers. But her fingers were _warm_ —laying across a cozy, slightly rippled yet still soft surface. Rose made a content sound as she cuddled closer to—a body? _Oh_ right, Steve had gone to sleep as well. It didn’t weird her out as much as she thought it would—apparently they had gravitated towards one another in their sleep. Steve had one arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close to him. Rose’ arm was wrapped around his waist, her hand slipped under his shirt and laying across his set of abs. Her face was comfortably tucked into his neck, one of her legs hooked around one of his. _Well this is interesting_. Rose lifted her gaze a tiny bit and was hit with the full force of Steve’s face and _dear God_ what a face he had. His eyelashes were so _long_ ; Rose was certain her best mascara couldn’t achieve that length. His lips were parted slightly, snoring softly—his cheekbones were high and defined, his jaw so cut Rose wondered whether it could crush diamonds. _Holy hell_ , he was attractive. And _warm_. Instinctively, she cuddled closer, huddling for every bit of warmth he could give her—Steve reacted, his fingers around her waist tightening, lips closing as he made small smacking noises only to reopen them and continue the snoring.

  
The last person she had slept next to had been Erik. They had cried themselves to sleep after the news of Charles’ death. Her throat didn’t close up at the thought of that like it usually did. Rose let out a little sigh of relief and she felt Steve jolt awake—his arms around her twitched violently for a second, his eyes opening in a flash. He seemed to be disoriented for a moment, but then looked down at her in wonder. “Hey.” Rose muttered, her voice rough from disuse. Steve’s eyebrows pushed together as he took in the scene in front of him. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed and immediately moved to detangle them from one another. “I’m _so_ sorry—“ Rose just sighed and rolled on her back. “It’s okay, Steve. No harm done. Calm down.” She was still tired, Rose decided, rubbing her hands across her face. Steve was already out of the bed, hastily pulling at his clothes to bring them back into place. He stopped once he noticed how wrecked she looked—his eyebrows scrunched together and he took a step closer to the bed. Rose sat up again, using both hands to shove the mass of hair out of her face. “Are you alright?” His question was hesitant. Rose shrugged. “Just tired, I guess.” She wouldn’t tell him that the way he had basically jumped away from her the second he woke up had hurt. _Get it together, Rose_.

 

She could see that he didn’t quite believe her, but he thankfully dropped the subject. “I’m going to—to see if there’s food for us. You didn’t eat before you went to bed and you used your powers a lot.” Steve seemed content the second he had a _mission_ to go after. With another nod, he was out of the room, darting towards the commons, Rose suspected. _Yup_ , that sound was her front door opening. “Miss Kapoor, Captain Rogers has left the apartment.” FRIDAY told her whenever someone came and went. “Thanks.” Rose muttered and she fell back into bed. “FRIDAY, how long were we asleep?” The answer came prompt. “Seven hours and fourty-three minutes, Miss Kapoor.”

 

Not nearly enough to get her back up to normal levels, but better than nothing. She needed a shower and a change of clothes—her hair needed to be washed as well. It was just unbearable at this point. Rose groaned, got up and did just that. And if she turned the water just a little bit colder than usual, nobody but FRIDAY and her would know.

 

* * *

_Stupid, stupid, you’re so fucking stupid_.

 

Steve’s fingers were frantic as he pulled ingredients out of the fridge in the common room, finding himself with a set of things that _definitely_ didn’t go together. With a groan, he put back half of the stuff.

 

_So goddamn stupid, you basically assaulted her in her sleep, Rogers, what the fuck is wrong with you?_

 

Bucky would have been able to charm his way under her shirt in that situation, Steve just _knew_ it (but she had been the one with her hand under his shirt, _holy shit_ , he could still feel her fingers trace the lines of his abdomen). Thinking of Bucky, he felt guilt creep up his spine. How could he be here, cuddling up with a dame while Bucky was out there, scared, alone? Even though the two men never had that kind of relationship (not for lack of hoping on Steve’s side of things, though), Steve still felt as though he was cheating. And if there was anything Steve Rogers did best, it was _guilt_.

 

With another sigh, he stuck to pancakes and French toast, hoping that Rose would eat either one of those. He never saw her _not_ eat up anything that was placed in front of her, though, so he wasn’t too worried.

 

The back of his neck tingled and Steve _knew_ someone was watching him. With an exasperated sigh, he turned around, expecting Natasha—but he was faced with Clint.

 

“You were in her apartment. For 8 hours.” No greeting, going straight to business. Yeah, whenever Clint was pissed, Steve saw that side of him. He had so far hoped to never be on the receiving side of that—but here he was.

 

“I just… tucked her in, Barton.” The tips of his ears were burning as he turned back around to scramble together pancake batter.

 

“For 8 hours.”

 

“I fell asleep.”

 

Clint made an annoyed sound and Steve did his best to keep his back to him. He didn’t want to meet that look.

 

“Does she know you’re playing with her?”

 

That definitely got Steve’s attention—he dropped the whisk and turned around with a look of shock on his face. Was he doing that, playing with her? He had been played with before, strung along by a pretty dame until he figured out she was doing nothing but being polite and getting him to buy her drinks and flowers. Was he doing the same thing?

 

“No—Barton, I would _never_! It’s not like that—“

 

Clint kicked against the counter, his jaw ticking dangerously. “Of _course_ it’s like that, you _idiot_. She’s into you and you’re stringing her along till she finds your buddy Barnes. Tell me I’m wrong.”

 

“I—You’re _wrong_.”

 

Clint made a displeased sound, shaking his head. “I know Natasha’s trying to get you laid, but does it have to be her? Seriously? Don’t you think she deserves better than that?”

 

Steve swallowed, rubbing one hand over his face. “Of course she does, Barton. I’m not doing—I’m—Fuck, Barton, I’m trying, alright?”

 

“So you’re not just waiting for Barnes.” The mentioning of Bucky’s name made Steve flinch.

 

“I’m—Bucky and me weren’t like that—“

 

Clint shook his head. “That’s not an answer. What if you hurt her, Rogers? Huh? What if she _leaves?_ ”

 

Steve swallowed—he hadn’t even thought of that. Would she leave, run away? He suspected she had done so before, more than once. He couldn’t find anything to say though—nothing he could come up with would make Barton believe him. So he watched the archer leave with an aggressive scowl on his face. Steve turned and leaned against the counter, swallowing hard. _Well you fucked that one up pretty thoroughly, Rogers_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this one, guys :) Let me know what you think in the comments below :) Thanks so much for all the kudos, hits, bookmarks and comments! It really keeps me going here.


	23. Don’t you think I deserve to be someone’s first choice?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to winchesterxgirl for being an amazing beta! I was struggling with these chapters a little bit for whatever reason, but she helped me through it c: 
> 
> Well, here it goes. Rose snaps at Clint, Darcy is understanding and also in love with a cute scientist, Steve needs to prove something and Rose has an unexpected visitor.

It was mostly Tony, Vision and her, looking for Bucky. Bruce often came to help, but it was clear that he was checking on Tony more than anything else. The scientist would often praise his boyfriend for his genius with gentle smile and sweet touches, kissing him goodbye so naturally that it left Tony without basic motor functions for a few seconds. It was _adorable_. Pepper came by as well and she had the exact same effect on Tony—Rose caught her scratch the back of his neck like a cat while he worked.

 

_That could have been me. That could have been us_.

 

Rose did her best to kill those thoughts when they came up, but they were still a throbbing presence in the back of her head. Charles was dead, Erik was half-way across the planet for all she knew. That chapter of her life was over and she knew it—even if Erik ever came back, romance between the two of them would be nothing but a recipe for disaster. Without Charles, the two of them couldn’t function the way they used to. Rose was a tank of gasoline and Erik was a lighter, always ready to cause an explosion—she knew enough about unhealthy relationships to know that this was over. But that didn’t mean that she didn’t miss them.

 

Truth was, she missed her best friends. Sure, Clint was still there and for whatever reason he seemed to be hell-bent on doting on her every second of the day, but she still missed Erik’s dry sarcasm and Charles’ amused laughter.

 

Also, she was not getting laid. That didn’t help the situation either. Waking up next to a warm body was something Rose didn’t know she had missed until it happened to her again and now she was basically simmering on a low flame. While her own hands had worked out pretty well for some time now (one-night stands aside, Rose hadn’t had a real physical relationship in quite some time) they just didn’t seem to scratch the itch she was feeling.

 

It made her irritable. _Steve_ made her irritable.

 

He didn’t quite speak to her anymore. He was focused on the search for Bucky; Rose totally understood that. That however didn’t mean that she _wasn’t_ hurt when his only words to her in a day were “Good Morning”, “Goodnight” and “Any news?”. Natasha noticed, because Natasha always noticed. Rose ignored the redheads knowing look. If she landed a punch or two in the usual morning training with Nat due to her boiling rage and frustration—well, at least she got something out of it.

 

Clint seemed worried about her. He checked in with her several times a day and even though he only meant well, it unnerved her to the point of wanting to just get the hell out and hide for a day or two. She hit her breaking point two weeks in, when she was cutting up fruit for oatmeal that Bruce made in the morning—Clint kept throwing her these worried looks until Rose crashed the knife onto the counter and hissed at him. “I am _not_ going to relapse; can you back the _fuck_ off? I’m _fine_.” She skipped breakfast that day and went ahead to the lab to start the Bucky-tracking for a day. They were certain he was in New York at that point—close enough to monitor Steve, but not close enough for Steve to notice that. Darcy brought her food that day and just didn’t leave.

 

“When was the last time you went to a meeting?” Darcy questioned an hour later—Rose hadn’t really spoken to her, just muttered to herself while coding and skimming through footage. She looked up to stare at Darcy, her lips pushed together tightly. “Darce—“

 

The younger woman raised both hands in the universal sign of _I’m not here to fuck you up_. “Hey, I’m just asking. What you said this morning—I mean, I knew before, but I just now realized that you barely ever leave the Tower. I was just wondering whether you had the chance to go to one.”

 

“—What do you mean you knew?” Rose knew that Clint and Nat were aware of the situation. But other than that, she hadn’t told anyone.

 

“You never drink alcohol, not even beer. You almost freaked out that one time Clint came out with beer for everyone until you noticed he brought you a coke instead. You’re not Muslim, because you don’t insist on halal food and—my uncle is recovering, too. I see the signs.” Darcy shrugged and Rose leaned back in her chair.

 

“Mm. Don’t advertise it. I haven’t—had the chance, though. I should go, but I don’t really want to make your job harder. Also, I’m not really—“ Rose gestured at the scowl on her face. “It’s not an alcohol thing. It’s more of an, _I’m fucking frustrated_ thing.”

 

Darcy shook her head. “Fuck that, you go to your meetings, let the journalists say whatever the fuck they want. We’ll shut them down. Also, are we talking sexual frustration? Cause I know how to help with that.” Darcy wiggled her eyebrows and Rose laughed.

 

“Is that so? Are you offering?” Now it was Darcy’s turn to laugh.

 

“No, sorry. I mean, I totally would, but I’m kind of pining after someone, so gotta focus all of that. I was thinking you could take a ride on the statue of patriotism. Or that girl in accounting that pines after your ass.”

 

Rose frowned. “You have a girlfriend? Boyfriend? Soon-to-be-bed-warmer? And I don’t know about that? Darce, you wound me. Also, yeah, nice try. I’m not going to defile a national icon.”

 

Darcy grinned. “Boy, this time. He’s a scientist who works with Bruce, his name is Hank McCoy. Cutest face on this side of the galaxy, I swear to Thor, but fucking clueless when it comes to flirting. Also, didn’t you already do that? He slept at your place!”

 

Rose raised an eyebrow. “How the fuck do you know that—oh, wait, don’t even tell me. Clint or Nat.”

 

“Nat. So you didn’t do the do?”

 

“That explains why Clint is being so mother-hen-y. And no, we didn’t—I kind of... I don’t know. I was tired, he was tired, we slept in the same bed. Woke up cuddled together, which was pretty hot if I do say so myself—but he just disappeared into thin air after. And now he’s not talking to me, which is so fifth fucking grade, I could punch his face _again_. So, no, defiling a national icon is not happening. I’m just going to go and ask that girl in accounting out, because at least she doesn’t run the other way when I speak to her. When this whole Bucky business is over.”

 

Louisa from accounting was really pretty—with short, soft blonde hair and black-rimmed glasses that framed her face perfectly. Also, she had an _awesome_ piercing in her nose. Darcy frowned. “Hm, but that doesn’t make sense. Like, at all. I mean, not the accounting girl thing, ‘cause Louisa is something else. I could’ve _sworn_ he was interested—I mean his sketchbook is full of you. But maybe he’s into boys? I mean, there was a lot of speculation there, with him and Sergeant Barnes. That would explain all of the man-pain.” Darcy moved her hands when she spoke, wide and swift gestures.

 

“Maybe. Who the fuck even knows.”

* * *

 

Rose saw Clint again at Dinner and gave the archer a wordless hug, which he accepted with a huffed _’bout damn time, kid_. Again, they quickly explode and make up even quicker—if there was one thing Rose and Clint had in common, it was that. Dinner was a quick endeavor and it ended with Rose and Wanda cleaning the dishes while Pietro dashed in and out of the kitchen to carry the plates and leftovers from the dinner table in. He did it to impress Darcy and Rose didn’t have the heart to tell him she was interested in someone else—at least not for the moment.

Wanda used her powers to load the plates into the dishwasher after Rose rinsed them off—it was incredible, watching the younger woman concentrate so fiercely on one spot, trying her very best to not let the plates shake as she put them in order. “You’re trying too hard.” Rose muttered as she rinsed off another plate and placed it on the pile. Wanda blinked and looked up at her. “What do you mean?”

 

Rose swallowed, taking a deep breath before she spoke. “You are zoning in on the dish only. That’s why it is shaking. You cannot concentrate on one thing and ignore the rest of the world—you have to focus, sure, but it’s better if you are less… tense about it.” Wanda made a thoughtful sound and proceeded to put the dishes into the dishwasher with her hands instead of her powers. Rose didn’t comment on it.

 

After everything was cleaned up, the brunette actually went over to Natasha and Clint’s, asking to borrow one of their cars—they let her, but Clint insisted on going with her, because people now were aware of her and she could get into trouble. Rose let him tag along, but made him swear to not tell anyone but Nat about where they were going. She went into a meeting on her own, Clint deciding to run a few errands while she was there. Rose didn’t share this time, but it felt good to be there anyway.

 

They returned back to the Tower later that evening and Rose excused herself to bed after checking on the results of the latest search. Still nothing—Bucky was still in New York, they were pretty certain of that, but so far, there was no more information. Rose suspected that he just needed time—Sam had given her a crash course on what had happened to the man and _dear God_ , did that guy need a break.

 

Back in her apartment, she showered, changed and threw herself on the couch.

 

She didn’t even notice that she fell asleep until a knock on the door made her jolt awake. “Miss Kapoor, Captain Rogers is waiting for you outside your door.” With a groan, she sat up, running a hand over her face, blindly searching for her glasses that she nudged up her nose again, whimpering as the lights flicked on from 0 to 100 in one second. “Lighting 50 per cent, FRIDAY. What time is it?” The lighting adjusted immediately and Rose got up. “2:25 am, Miss Kapoor.” With a loud sigh, she accessed FRIDAY to open the door herself, revealing a visibly sleepless Steven Rogers. He had probably attempted to sleep, if the soft pants and white tank was anything to go by. Rose stumbled towards Steve, ignoring that she was wearing nothing but shorts and a wide, old T-Shirt.

 

“It’s the middle of the night, Steve.” She muttered as she gestured him to come in—he did, if only a few steps. FRIDAY closed the door without being told.

 

“I’m not stringing you along.”

 

That certainly got her attention—Rose blinked several times, before leaning against the wall. “I’d tell you to sit down, but I’ll fall asleep if I do. So, you’re not—“

 

“Stringing you along.” Steve explained, gesturing with his hands minimally—his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, clearly unsure about what he was supposed to say.

 

“Okay. I need some context here.” So, he was going to tell her he didn’t mean to send the wrong message—Rose already suspected as much. It’d be okay, she just had to live through this conversation and not make an ass of herself. She could do that.

 

Steve swallowed again, nervously brushing his hair out of his face. “I’m not using you to get to Bucky. I’m not stringing you along, I—Jesus Christ, God help me, I _do_ like you. Clint said you might think I’m using you, but I’m not.”

 

Well this took an unexpected direction. “—I know you’re not using me. I never thought you were. But I got to be honest with you, Steve, one day you’re the worlds biggest cuddler and the next you don’t talk to me. Wasn’t very pleasant. I’m not really sure what you—want.”

 

He flinched, nodding. “I know. It’s just—I’m bad at this.”

 

Rose suppressed the impulse to sass him with something like _You don’t say?_ She was proud of herself for that one, for sure. “Are you in love with your friend? Bucky?” That wasn’t supposed to come out that way, but hell, Darcy’s words from earlier that morning were still burned in her head. Rose hated the idea of not knowing where she stood.

 

Steve swallowed, averting his eyes. “I was. I am.”

 

“—Then, Steve, I’m afraid you _are_ stringing me along.”

 

“I don’t mean to—“

 

Rose shook her head. “Look, you’re in love with someone and you’re here telling me that you—like me. But because you’re in love with someone else, this—“ she pointed between the two of them. “Isn’t going to happen, is it? Or, if it does, it will end as soon as your friend is back with you. Steve, that’s kind of the definition of stringing someone along.”

 

He looked utterly lost and Rose wanted nothing more than to just kiss the helplessness of his face, but she knew an unhealthy relationship when she saw one.

 

“I _do_ like you. I liked when we went out and how you made me tell Tony the truth and how you’re such a sore loser in that Kart game you play with Darcy and I—I think you’re _beautiful_. And Bucky doesn’t feel the same way about me—Rose, look—“

 

She shook her head vehemently. “Steve, I don’t want to be second best.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Don’t you think I deserve to be someone’s first choice?” _I’m not going to set myself on fire to keep you warm_.

 

Steve exhaled at that, running one hand through his hair. “Yes—of course. Of course you do. I’m sorry, I—I’m sorry.” With that, Steve bolted out the door and Rose couldn’t help but choke back a couple of tears at that. _This could’ve gone so much better_.

* * *

 

The next knock came at 3 am and this time, Rose hadn’t fallen asleep—she had decided to raid her cupboards for candy and tea. While her body craved caffeine, she knew that she would want to get in at least another hour of sleep before the morning. She may be on her period, but the Black Widow waited for no one.

 

“What’s wrong with everyone today…” she muttered to herself as she trotted back towards the door, opening after FRIDAY confirmed that it was in fact Natasha. The redhead was wearing her tactical gear, which alerted Rose the second she saw it. “Nat? Are you alright—what’s going on?”

 

But Natasha didn’t speak, she merely shuffled by Rose and stalked into the living room while Rose closed the door. “Nat?” Natasha then turned around, nodding towards the wall. “Invoke the privacy protocols. No video and audio, right?” Rose nodded. “FRIDAY? Activate privacy protocol X1. Authorization code Charles Erik Brooklyn.”

 

“Confirmed, Miss Kapoor. Saying my name twice will deactivate your protocol.”

 

Rose nodded towards Natasha and the woman raised both hands. “Now, before we get started, promise me not to freak out.”

 

“—I promise. What’s going on, Nat?”

 

It didn’t take Rose long to realize that the person in front of her wasn’t Natasha. Because within just a second, she dissolved into— _something_? Her skin shifted, clothes and skin and hair and face disappearing like scales only to be replaced by the slender frame of a young woman. A woman who was entirely blue, eyes yellow and hair spiky and red.

 

Rose took a few steps back, immediately trying to remember where her weapons were—she had no weapons. _Shit_. Before she reached out to Vision, the woman already spoke.

 

“Erik sent me. Don’t tell anyone I’m here. I don’t want to hurt you, he told me not to, but I will—if you decide to rat me out.”

 

Rose ground her teeth together. “Prove it.” Her connection to Vision wasn’t there yet, but it would take her no time at all to build it up.

 

The woman rolled her eyes and Rose wanted to throw her out of the window. “He came to visit you when you were in the med bay downstairs. He used to call you nothing but _silly girl_ for two months when you met.”

 

Rose swallowed and carefully moved towards the kitchen. The crazy need for a drink boiled up in her belly and she knew it was best to burn that out right now. “If you stab me in the back, you have the Avengers on your ass in a second. Also, my toaster might try to kill you afterwards, or something.” The brunette commented as she filled a glass of water and downed it in one go, filling it up again, before turning around.

 

The woman in blue kept eyeing her curiously, a smirk playing on her lips. “He was right. You _are_ fun.” Rose snorted, taking another sip of her water.

 

“So you brought him in here, that’s how you bypassed security. When I was unconscious, I mean.”

 

The woman shrugged. “I may or may not have turned into Mr. Stark and ordered a time-out for the AI. It was surprisingly easy; Erik was very proud. My name is Mystique.”

 

Rose nodded. “Yeah, that fits. What does he want?”

 

Mystique walked into the kitchen and Rose then just noticed that she was barefoot—and also naked. Like, _really_ naked. “He wants you to come with me—more specifically, he wants to meet. He is in New York and he has a proposition for you—intel that you might consider interesting.”

 

Rose rolled her eyes and crawled on top of the counter, one foot dangling off the counter while the other leg was pulled against her frame. She took another sip of water. “Erik knows exactly that I don’t jump just ‘cause he says so.”

 

Mystique smiled, two rows of shiny white teeth. She looked like a shark and damn, Rose thought it was awesome. “He knows. As it turns out, though, you and he have the same enemy as of late.”

 

“Fox News?”

 

“Hydra.” That certainly caught Rose’s attention—she carefully placed the glass back on the counter.

 

“He has information about _Hydra_. What the fuck is that cocky asshole up to? Jesus Christ.” Rose shook her head and Mystique shrugged. “He has his moments. Now, do you agree to a meeting?”

 

“—What are the terms?”

 

“Well, you go alone, _obviously_. Any other Avenger and Erik might end up dead. Keep _especially_ the Hawk away from him. Other than that… nothing. He says you pretend to go to a meeting and meet him instead. Should be rather simple, if you’re as crafty as he says you are.” Rose rolled her eyes and got off the counter.

 

“Three days. I’ll go to the center I used to go to, in Brooklyn. He knows which one, I’m guessing.”

 

Mystique nodded. “Good. I will pick you up and bring you to him, then. Do you think you can shake off your tail if necessary?”

 

Rose took a second, before nodding. “Yes.”

 

She felt a tingling feeling crawl up her spine for a moment and recognized it as Vision attempting to initiate symbiosis. Rose waved Mystique off, turning around to ensure that she was not in her field of vision before she gave consent. She didn’t notice the mutant leaving, but Rose was certain that she was gone the second her back was to her. Vision and her wove their minds together until they operated as one and she could hear his voice in her mind.

 

**_Friend, I apologize. It is quite late._ **

 

“I was up. Are you okay, buddy?”

 

**_I am, but Mr. Stark is requesting your presence in his laboratory._ **

 

“Is he okay?”

 

**_Yes, but we believe that we have located Sergeant Barnes._ **

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....I'm sorry? XD If it's any consolation, writing this hurt me as much as it probably hurt you. I hope you liked it anyway, guys! Leave your thoughts in the comments, I love interacting with you c:


	24. So Hydra is basically building—what?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky sends a message, Rose wonders what's going to happen now and Erik has some interesting information.

Steve didn’t look at her the entire time Stark spoke. She was wearing the same things as before, she had just thrown that brown leather jacket she seemed to be wearing all the time over her shoulders. It clearly wasn’t her size. She didn’t look at him either, not from her position near the screens, where Tony was wildly gesticulating the way he always would when he was running low on sleep and high on coffee. It stung.

She had been right, though and Steve knew that. His feelings for Bucky had never been strictly platonic and even though he had never made an attempt to tell his friend so (those were different times and Steve had never been the one to take a leap of faith when it came to love), he could clearly tell that Bucky never felt that way. How could he, the way he always stepped out with the gals in the neighborhood? He’d always be hung up on Bucky— he’d also never thought that this would limit his pursuit of love. But now, looking at the back of a woman who would have _wanted_ him, who liked _Steve Rogers_ and not Captain America (a woman who wasn’t quite a fan of Captain America, really); well, now he saw how it would keep him from moving on.

_How can I blame the girl for knowing better than I do?_

“You see that? It’s a message.” Tony pointed at a sequence of camera footage—this time it was somewhere Steve recognized. He saw the ice cream cart he and Rose took the picture in front of in the background. With a roll of his eyes, Tony realized that nobody understood what he was saying—he swiped his arm across the hologram and seemed to have pulled the video apart by seconds. “Check the time stamps.” He said and Steve leaned forward and suddenly he saw it.

“There are frames missing again. This time either one minute intervals or two minute intervals.” Tony threw his hands up in the air and muttered _Hallelujah_ , before Rose swallowed. “It’s morse code, isn’t it? One minute for the dot, two for the dash.”

Another nod from Tony and he looked towards Vision, who had been silent the entire time. Steve’s gaze was still focused on the frame, pulling together information—he was in the Army for Christ’s sake, he knew morse code better than all of them.

“Ready, Punk. Meet me at home.”

* * *

Only a subset of the Avengers was going to attempt to bring in the Winter Soldier, aka Sergeant James Barnes. Rose was not part of that subset—she stuck to remaining in the Tower with Bruce and Tony. Clint was going to stay high up to keep an eye out for _anything_ , Natasha was going to watch Clint, Steve and Sam were going to go and meet Sergeant Barnes, while Wanda kept a grasp on his mind to make sure he was not still in the mindset of killing anyone—and, well, where Wanda went, so did her brother. Vision was going to be there as well—whether it was to check on Wanda or keep an eye on the group for Tony and her was questionable.

Rose wasn’t asked to join the party, neither was Bruce—Tony flat out refused to go. “I helped you find him, but I’m not going to help your rescue mission, right now. I don’t have it in me.” Steve had accepted that with a nod, leaving the three of them behind in their respective labs—well, in Tony’s lab. Rose was always there and Bruce came to hang with them—no work was going to be done today.

The waiting period was not as hard as she had suspected it would be—Rose remained connected to Vision, testing their boundaries. They found that they could be rather far apart and still be able to contact one another. Thus, she was always on top of what was happening—Tony occupied himself by tinkering with a piece of machinery she didn’t recognize and Bruce tried to coax his boyfriend into eating.

“Rosie-Bear, come here.” With an impatient wave, Tony gestured for her to come closer. She rolled over on her chair, stretching her arm out as he demonstrated. With a flick of his fingers, he fitted the piece of metal, which upon a closer look turned out to be similar to a bracelet, over her wrist. It shone in silver and purple, similar to the colors of her suit.

“You made me metal jewelry.” Rose cooed with the driest tone she could manage—Bruce snorted in amusement as Tony rolled his eyes, immediately moving his hands to explain the device she had on her arm. Rose indulged him, truthfully—she didn’t have it in her to actually listen and understand everything he just told her about the metal bracelet; he’d have to teach her again, later. But it kept Tony occupied at least and judging by the thankful look on Bruce’s face, that was enough.

* * *

 

Apparently bringing Sergeant Barnes in had been a piece of cake—at least that was what Vision told her. He had been sitting in the old apartment that Steve used to live in (it was empty, now, falling apart at the seams) waiting to be taken in—he gave Steve a nice amount of weaponry to show good faith. Natasha and Clint hadn’t been fooled though.

 

“He had enough weapons to rob a small bank, kid, but you couldn’t see a damn thing. It was crazy.” Clint had explained as he laid across the lab table, sipping on some green-ish shake that DUM-E had offered him. Natasha was leaning against a chair, her feet propped up on Clint’s stomach. They were the only ones who came downstairs to tell Rose, Tony and Bruce what was happening—Vision was excluded from that, however. He talked to Rose in her head the entire time.

“So what going to happen now?” Rose questioned, keeping an eye on Tony. He looked grim and _tired_ , as though he was about to crash and burn every moment. _Doesn’t look like the kind of tired that sleep can fix_.

Natasha shrugged. “Well, Maria Hill is coming from the other New York facility to see what she can do. I mean, the Government doesn’t know and it won’t for a while, I think. But we need to make sure he is no threat.”

Tony scoffed and nodded towards Natasha. “Do you think he’s a threat?”

The redhead shrugged, but Clint turned towards Tony. “He’s dangerous as fuck, that’s what he is. We have no guarantee that he won’t peel one of us apart on a bad day. Rogers says he’s fine and that he speaks like his old buddy Barnes, but…” Clint looked towards Rose. “I’d rather we all stay away from him a little. And definitely avoid being alone with him.”

Tony sighed. “I don’t like dangerous people being brought into my tower. For fucks sake, Pepper, Darcy and Foster _live_ here.” Bruce scowled as well, apparently not having considered that option. “Maybe we should lay our labs together, for the time being.” The softer scientist suggested and Tony nodded absentmindedly. Nobody was going to even get close to Jane and Darcy with _the Hulk_ around.

“God knows what they fucked up in that guy’s head. Conditioning ain’t easy to break.” Clint muttered and he and Nat shared a look—they spoke from experience.

“Yeah, but if the conditioning is your only reason—he didn’t kill Steve at the Helicarrier. _And_ he surrendered himself willingly. There might still be triggers somewhere, but—it didn’t stop S.H.I.E.L.D. when they recruited you. Or Erik, for that matter.” Rose nodded towards Natasha and the redhead made a face that clearly showed discomfort about being pulled into this.

“Erik?” Bruce asked quietly and Rose sighed. “It’s a long story and not a pretty one. Also, this is not the point. The guy needs a safe place to land and—I mean, all of us can protect ourselves, right?”

She glanced at the bracelet around her arm—even she could protect herself now. Natasha noticed, but Clint didn’t—Rose was grateful that the redhead said nothing.

* * *

The next two days flew by faster than Rose anticipated, despite the tingling excitement in her limbs every second she thought about meeting Erik—he had been her _friend_ , for Christ’s sake. She felt like she was coming home at the thought of seeing him again. It made her better in training, really—because apparently, the capture of the incredible Sergeant Barnes hadn’t stopped Rose’s training regiment. She landed several punches against Natasha and to both their surprise, she didn’t end up pinned against the wall by the time their session was up. “Well done, _milaya_.” Natasha had said. Clint had been beaming with pride.

Rose didn’t think about Barnes or Steve very much—they were barricaded in a separate floor for the time being. Barnes was being interrogated by both Hill and Steve—apparently, Nat had said a piece or two that had convinced Hill to keep him a secret for a while. From the way Maria Hill had looked at Rose after that, the woman suspected that Natasha had brought up the Erik argument. _Well, at least I did my daily good deed._

She spent a significant amount of time with Pepper, working through her experiences as a mutant in the workplace—about how the discrimination was both either subtle or as fierce as a hit with a sledgehammer. Pepper took notes and Rose made suggestions. Maybe some mutants would feel safe coming forward with their identity—Stark Industries was making sure that they were as protected as they could be.

By the time she had to meet with Erik, Rose was ready to just get it over with. She asked Bruce whether she could borrow his car (“Why don’t you take Clint with you?” “I’d rather not. It’s embarrassing, alright?” “Hm, sure. But Tony has nicer cars than I do.” “I know that, but I just need a ride. No dick-compensation needed.”).

Driving in New York wasn’t easy, never had been—but once learned, it was impossible to forget. Rose parked close to where she would usually have her meeting. Obviously, Mystique wasn’t going to run around in her regular blue form (that was a fool-proof way to get herself killed in this neighborhood), so Rose kept an eye out on anyone who approached her closer than normal. After twenty minutes, she was contemplating just going inside and calling it a bust—until someone spoke to her.

“You did make it. And there’s no tail.” Rose turned around and found herself faced with a young woman—she looked as though she was about twenty years of age, with long blonde hair a wicked blue eyes. Her facial features were similar enough to Mystique’s that Rose immediately recognized her. “I thought you’d left me hanging.”

Mystique grinned, nodding towards her left, indicating that she should come along. “Nah. I have thought about messing with you a little, but Erik said to get you to him asap. People know your face now—even though you did well to hide it.” The blonde woman looked Rose up and down and she shrugged—a tight black T-Shirt stretched over her torso, Charles’ leather jacket over that. She wore skinny jeans, her hair in a bun and her glasses on her nose. “Glasses do make all the difference.” Rose muttered and Mystique grinned. “Why, yes; They are very effective.”

Mystique lead her through several small streets that Rose made note of—she was farther away from known territory than she liked, but she’d figure it out soon enough. Hell, there was wi-fi to hitch a ride on _everywhere_ and in the small metal bracelet weapon thing that Tony made her, she could also connect to virtually anything. “So, how do you know Erik?” Rose asked thoughtfully as they walked. Mystique shrugged. “I met him a while ago. Tried to steal from him, he figured out that I was a mutant and—I just never left. We’re travelling together.” Rose made a knowing sound and nodded. “Cool. Are you two the only ones?” The woman grinned, showing her perfect white teeth. “Now wouldn’t you like to know.”

Rose shrugged. “Hey, if you’re going to fuck me over I’d like to know how many people I’m gonna fight.”

Mystique looked her up and down before shrugging. “I don’t think you’ll have much a problem either way. There.” She stopped and nodded to her left—it was a tiny hole-in-the-wall motel that seemed to be no larger than five rooms. “He’s in room 3, waiting for you. Can you find your way back alone after?” The brunette nodded and thanked Mystique quietly before entering the tiny establishment. There was nobody at the front desk so she hurried right past it—the less people she met on the way the better.

Room 3 was easy to find and against common sense, Rose just opened the door ( _unlocked_ ) without knocking.

The room was small, barely fitting a bed, a tiny table and two chairs in it. It had no electronics in there aside from a landline. She saw a tiny door attached to the wall, next to the table, and she supposed that this had to be the bathroom. Her inspection of the room left only one thing out—the man sitting on the bed, dressed in casual jeans and a black pullover, hunched forward with his arms resting against his thighs, his head raised to take her in. He looked different in this light. Older.

Juvenile mischief had been wiped off his face. He looked tired—smooth skin was replaced by a wrinkle here and there. He used to be clean shaven, but now a stubble reached across his jaw. Rose decided that she liked that. His hair, formerly brown with a ginger tint, had lightened in color, sporting some grey hairs here and there.

Erik unfolded himself from his chair—he had always towered over here with his 6-foot frame, but the difference in his face made him look even taller; scarier. “Hello there, Rosie.”

His voice was the same—rough around the edges, making Rose wonder whether he had taken up smoking again. They had made a promise to stop together, back in the day, when Natasha was beating the shit out of them at training. Their lungs hadn’t liked the smoke very much. “Hi.”, she breathed, making a few tentative steps forward. Erik took her in slowly—his eyes wandered over her body, taking his time as he examined her from the tips of her toes to the last wild curl of dark hair.

“I was not sure you would come.” Erik muttered, taking a seat in one of the two chairs in the room. He motioned for Rose to take the other and she stripped off Charles’ jacket to sit down as well. She placed the jacket on the table between them and Erik looked at the brown leather for a long moment. He knew what it was, of course he knew.

 

“I said I would. I told your friend that I would.”

Erik nodded. “I know. But we have not been in contact for some time. I wondered whether—whether you would even want to see me.” The letters stumbled over his tongue slowly, the hint of German accent still there, even after all these years. Rose found it oddly soothing.

 

“I missed you to death, you idiot. Of course I wanted to see you.”

He smiled at that—lips parting slowly, revealing two rows of shiny white teeth. “I missed you, too. That’s why I came to you in the Tower when you were unconscious after Sokovia. I had to make sure you would be in good hands.”

“I wish you could have stayed longer.” Rose muttered and Erik nodded.

“Yes. But our _friend_ Agent Barton might have put an arrow through my eye socket.”

Yeah, with Clint that was entirely possible. “He’s mad because he thinks you killed that one President.”

Erik looked appalled. “He was a _mutant_ , I tried to _help_ him!”

“That’s what _I_ said!”

The man shook his head before leaning forward. “I have information for you. To take back to your new _friends_ .” There was venom in his voice as he said _friends_ and Rose wasn’t a stranger to that tone. He used it when he said _humans_ or _cockroaches_ alike.

“Okay?”

“Mystique and I have stumbled across some new information—regarding Hydra. Your new… additions. The boy and girl from Sokovia.” Rose nodded. “Wanda and Pietro. What about them?”

“They are mutants now.”

“Well, yeah, Hydra experimented on them and they’re enhanced.”

Erik shook his head. “You are not hearing me. They are mutants. Like _us_.”

Rose leaned back in her chair, shaking her head. “That’s not possible. They weren’t mutants before.”

“I know that. Mystique and I found the files.”

Rose pushed both eyebrows together before she gasped. “You _dick_! While you visited me she took the files, didn’t she?”

Erik didn’t look guilty, just indifferent. “Well, of course. My point being, they have the X-Gene. I suppose nobody told you yet?”

She didn’t answer.

“Right. Well, they didn’t have any power before. But I knew their father—Well, I know _of_ their father and he was a mutant. Which means—“

 

“They had the dormant X-Gene. Their kids would have been mutants even if they aren't.”

Erik nodded. “Alas, this is the reason they were the only ones who survived—because they had the dormant gene. Hydra found a way to _accidentally_ make mutants.”

Rose cursed under her breath and got up from the chair, pacing in the tiny space. “Do they know? Hydra?”

Erik shrugged. “We suspect so. Mystique and I have found that individuals with the dormant gene are being kidnapped all over the continent. Of course, there can be more, but—” He shrugged again. “We are not sure. I cannot work through data as fast as you can.”

Rose ran both hands through her hair. “So Hydra is basically building—what? A mutant army? They won’t be able to contain them.”

Erik swallowed and got up as well. “They are and they will. I am not approving of the crowd you are currently running with, Rose, but I suggest you bring up these thoughts with them. And make sure that I stay out of it.”

Rose turned towards him, eyebrows pushed together. “What’s your deal with them anyway?”

Erik snorted. “I do not trust them. Stark is at fault for the Sokovia disaster, your friend the Captain is a walking propaganda machine, Barton is a hypocrite—shall I go on?”

“Don’t be a fucking dick, Erik.”

“Why not? I just don’t _understand_ how you can join them after all we went through with S.H.I.E.L.D.? Charles _died_ , Rose, and here you are working with the people who sent no help to him.”

Rose hissed. “None of the people on that Team had anything to do with this. At least I’m not _alone_ . Like I _was_.”

Erik rolled his eyes. “Better alone than with this kind of people.”

“What I do isn’t your fucking _choice_ . You threw away a chance of having a say away a _long_ time ago.”

Erik furrowed his brows together—he went from anger to confusion in barely a minute. Rose in the meantime felt fury coiling up in her gut—she hated being judged, always had, always would. She clenched her hands to fists—the metal bracelet whirred curiously. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You _left me_ !” she screeched, louder than she intended—louder than she thought she could. But this was Erik and Rose—just a second ago they were having normal, calm conversation and now the world felt as though it was on the brink of destruction. “I was _alone_ for years and you never even bothered to fucking call! All this time I had _nobody_ and you couldn’t come to check up on me and the second I have friends you bitch about how they’re not good enough? _Fuck you, Erik_.”

His face warped in anger, teeth gritted slightly as he crushed his fist against a wall. Rose wasn’t scared—he wouldn’t physically hurt her and if he dared to try, she’d crush his face against the nearest flat surface. There was no fear in this room, there never had been fear between them. Only passion and tension and _fury_ . “You didn’t come with _me_! I offered to take you, but you didn’t want to go! What was I supposed to do, hang around until you found your way again? This isn’t me, never has been. I lost him too!”

Rose couldn’t help herself; she shoved him back, making Erik fall behind two steps. “Well, I lost him, you lost him and now _fucking look at us_ ! We should’ve stuck together, we didn’t and now _look at us!_ ”

Silence stretched between them—Rose’s chest was heaving rapidly, so was Erik’s. Their eyes locked; there were no tears in hers, no tears in his. Anger was still boiling deep in her belly as recognition washed over her mind. Because there was nothing short of _magnetism_ in the way she launched her body at his, crushing her lips against Erik’s in a manner that was no less than bruising. His fingers dug deep in her back as he returned her motions with no less force than she did, not stumbling, standing as still as a rock as she clawed at his clothes and bit at his lips. _That’s why we agreed on calling you Magneto_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... who saw that one coming? xD Sorry for the cliffhanger, guys.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mind the rating, guys. I'm not even kidding-- it's just smut. This entire chapter is smut. If you wanna skip that, feel free to do that-- you can start reading after the horizontal line at the end again. 
> 
> Thanks to winchesterxgirl for reading over this and reassuring me that my smut does, in fact, not suck too much. xD I hope you guys enjoy and thank you for reading so far!

It wasn’t love, Rose knew that. Erik knew that as well.

It could have been, once upon a time—it could have been the whole deal, the thing people in movies talk about-- butterflies and gentle touches and white picket fences. But Charles was gone and without him, their only chance at normalcy.

He’d been the normal one—Charles, that was. With his past tainting his future, Erik had needed someone to balance him out—and Rose? Well, she had lacked both direction and initiative, needing someone to push her, to make her the best version of herself she could ever be. Charles did that for both of them—but he was taken from them way too soon, leaving them as incapable of ever being normal as they had been when he found them.

So, no. This wasn’t love.

This was anger. It was passion, a gallon of gasoline dumped upon an open flame. This was merely the burning need to make the best of the last few seconds before the catastrophe.  _ Comfort _ , Rose might have called it, if her fingers weren’t pulling against Erik’s sweater, scratching his skin—she lacked the will to apologize as he hissed in discomfort. Or maybe it wasn’t quite discomfort, judging by the hardened length she felt against her core.

Her legs were still wrapped around his waist, holding her close to his body, trapping him as though she dared him to attempt to flee. His hands dug into the fabric of her pants at the top of her thighs, keeping her close enough for Rose to  _ know _ she’d have finger-shaped bruises tomorrow—to  _ know _ that he was daring her to back out.

It was a fight, she realized, as she let go of Erik, ripping his sweater in the motion, pulling the now ruined fabric off his body. His pupils were blown and he looked like an addict ready to finally,  _ finally _ get the fix he had been waiting for (Because if they claimed that they never wanted this, that they  _ didn’t _ need this—well, it’d be a lie, a gross one at that). She flicked her tongue disapprovingly, reaching out to shove him—he let himself fall against the bed and went to toe off shoes and socks as she stood above him, her hands swift as she shrugged off pants, shoes, socks and shirt of her own. Her underwear mismatched but none of them cared. “Did I tell you could take that off?” he hissed as he watched, eyes hungrily devouring every newly exposed inch of skin.

“Fuck off.” Rose grunted as she climbed on top of him, pushing him down with all her might. He landed on his back, an unamused look on his face—his feet were still planted against the floor. Rose sighed in disapproval, before she ducked her head and bit into his shoulder—harder than she probably should. “Scoot up to the headboard. Put your hands above your head.” She muttered against his skin, firmly enough for it to sound like an order. Erik made a dismissive sound and wrapped both hands around the span of her waist, pushing her off him roughly. She fell against the bed, bouncing twice—Rose had seen it coming, though, so she turned to land on her back.

He listened to her, though—despite the fact that he looked at her as though he was about to grab her body and fuck her up against a wall, he listened. But Rose was not fooled—this wasn’t submission, he wasn’t giving her power. The smirk on his lips told her so. “Here are the rules.” She began, climbing on top of him—her legs bracketed his hips as she sat down firmly against his stomach, his erection brushing eagerly against her ass. “Rules, hm?” Erik questioned, raising one hand to brush them against her breasts—Rose grasped it firmly and stretched to put it back next to his head, where it had been. Their faces were on the same level as she did so. “You move those hands an inch and I’ll put on my clothes and leave. Don’t test me.”

Erik seemed indifferent to her words, but the smirk had been wiped off his face. She would—she would get up and put her clothes on and leave.

This wasn’t love, this was sex. And as it was well known, sex was about power.

The left corner of her mouth ticked up ever so slightly and with a mischievous glint in her eyes, she levered herself down, her other hand coming to cup Erik’s other hand, pushing his wrists deeply into the uncomfortable mattress, as though to remind him that he was not allowed to move.

She’d been thinking about this—Sex with Charles had always been different. With him, there had been love involved, the will to make her partner  _ feel _ good. And as she hovered above Erik, Rose knew that this part was missing. She wasn’t going to make sure he had fun—she was going to do whatever she  _ wanted _ . And for a split second she supposed that maybe, this could be enough for her. Most people didn’t even have that.

Aware that there was a hint of concern in Erik’s eyes, Rose leaned down to brush her lips against his, once, gently—a warning. The next second the gentle was  _ gone _ and she pushed their lips together with an incredible amount of force, coaxing Erik’s lips apart letting her tongue brush against his. Their kisses were tongue and teeth and by the time Rose had enough, she bit him into the lip once, wandering down his throat, biting, kissing, licking against the salty skin. He kept quiet, incapable of showing her that he  _ liked _ what she did—Rose didn’t know when they had fallen into this stupid power play, but here they were.  _ But this feels familiar. Fighting with him is familiar, all we ever did was fight. Why did I expect the sex to be different? _

She sucked a violent bruise against his neck, rewarding her good work with a gentle nibble, before she took her hands off his. Erik didn’t move, but she gave him a warning look anyway. Her lips trailed across his torso, biting, nibbling, sucking open mouthed kisses against firm flesh and coarse patches of hair. Her fingers travelled with, mapping out the area—he was by far not as firmly cut as her superhero friends, but dear  _ God _ that man was a work of art in his own.

Without a warning, she straightened up, panting heavily—her hands were still on his chest, one laying against his belly, the other splayed against one pec, the nail of her thumb idly rubbing circles around one nipple until it contracted. Erik looked at her and did his very best to look bored—if his chest wasn’t heaving as much as hers did, she might actually believe him. “Ah, go to hell.” Rose grumbled, and scooted down a little bit, careful around his groin. Her hands let go of what they were doing and made quick work of belt and zipper. She briefly considered letting him move to pull them off, but figured that she probably shouldn’t. They’d get distracted. With an incredible light hand, she brushed the tips of her fingers against the now slightly exposed fabric of his boxer briefs—they were straining against his erection, making Rose giddy with excitement. She kept her face carefully neutral as she bent down, lips ghosting over the strained fabric, fingers pulling down the jeans just a tiny bit to get better access. She brushed her nose against his erection, smiling as she saw his abs contract at the movement. He said nothing, but if she concentrated, she could make out slightly strained breathing. “You could just give in.” Rose muttered, carefully pulling down the boxer briefs to release his cock. Erik shrugged above her. Rose smiled, before ducking her head down again, ghosting her lips over the sensitive head. It was smeared with precome already and from the way his cock stood at attention, she gathered that he was more turned on than he pretended to be.

She wrapped a hand around the shaft almost torturously slowly, giving him two, three firm strokes before sucking merely the head between her lips. She traced the slit slowly with her tongue, tasting salt, before she opened her mouth a tiny bit more, allowing another inch in. A gasp erupted from above her and Rose looked up beneath long lashes, finding Erik watching her. His hands hadn’t moved but Rose could see his biceps straining ever so slightly, as though keeping them down was the hardest thing he ever had to do. With a slight flick of her tongue, she let go of him, leveling herself up on her elbows to look at him. “Keep going.”, he hissed between gritted teeth, but there was no venom in his voice. She considered stopping,  _ just to spite him _ , but then again—it had been a while. She might as well get some practice in.

Rose leaned back down, taking his cock between her lips again, moving up and down slowly—she left one hand below her lips, tugging the parts that she couldn’t quite fit into her mouth as well, trying to establish a slow rhythm. Erik exhaled shakily above her and she continued, faster this time—a couple of times she stopped, only to let her tongue whirl around the sensitive head, brush against the slit. He made choked off noises as she did so and Rose considered it a job well done.

She could have continued until he was finished, but this was about her pleasure, not his—so, she released him with a pop, taking her hands off and sitting down, her feet tucked under her thighs. With a thoughtful look, Rose considered the man before her—he was still panting heavily, hands above his head. “If I move my hands, are you going to leave?” The German accent got stronger—apparently he wasn’t concentrating enough to keep his speech clean of anything that might mark him as someone who wasn’t born in the US. “No.”

He moved with a speed that surprised Rose, tucking his arms around her waist and throwing her on her back—she moved to undo the clasp of her bra but Erik caught her hands, spanning both wrists in one of his. He contemplated something for a moment, Rose could see it—to her bafflement, he let go. She had suspected he’d give her the same treatment she had given him. Wordlessly, he unclasped her bra and threw it into the floor. Her panties followed suit and Erik lifted one of her legs, placing it down such that he was between them. He looked at her appreciatively for a long moment, before he let his hands run over her thighs. “Touch yourself.” It was an order, similar to the one she had given him moments ago and for a second, she considered not following along. He seemed to sense her hesitation, as his fingers stopped caressing the skin of her thighs, but rather digging into it. Rose gasped at the sensation and threw him an annoyed look, which Erik responded to with the most unimpressed face she had seen in a while. She lifted her hands slowly, rubbing them over her warm skin—she began with her throat, urging the tips of her fingers over the smooth surface. She considered closing her eyes for this, but if she only averted them from his face, the grip on her thighs grew firmer. So she looked him straight at the eye as she continued. Her hands wandered over her collarbone, down between her breasts until she reached her navel. His eyes didn’t trail her fingers, but remained focused on her face. Her nimble fingers rubbed over her nipples, gently nudging them between the tips, leaving the peaks standing at attention. “Lower.” Erik muttered and Rose swallowed, following the command.

Her fingers travelled down, down—over the smooth surface of her belly, delving between the lips of her sex. She felt how wet she was (practically  _ soaked _ , really), so she made sure to gather some moisture before running back up to circle her clit. Her eyes rolled back into her head a little but she kept them open, staring at him. His lips parted the second hers did—she applied more pressure, circling and flicking the sensitive nub until she  _ knew _ that if she kept that up, she’d be done in less than three minutes. Erik lifted one hand from her thighs, brushing the index finger between her lips—she understood what he wanted after a moment, opening her mouth to gently suck on his index finger, rubbing her tongue over the digit. As he pulled it out a little she gave him a small bite of his troubles, earning herself a stern look—her hips had started moving along to the movement of her fingers in the meantime. Erik nudged the wet index finger against her opening—she gasped out loud as he slid in in one go, her walls contracting just the tiniest bit. “Keep going.” He muttered, adding a second finger and beginning to roughly slide them in and out. There was no finesse in his actions, but he got points for enthusiasm—his hand turned until it was palm up and just as he bent his fingers slightly inside of her, Rose came with a long moan—her walls contracted around his fingers feverishly and she rode out the last waves of orgasm, moving her hips in time with the thrusts of his fingers.

He used the time she needed to get down from her high to get rid of the pants and get a condom, Rose thought, because the next thing she knew he slid into her smoothly. Rose gasped at the sensation, immediately wrapping her legs around his waist, her soles nudging against his ass to draw him closer. Erik levered himself down slightly, pushing his body flush against hers. There was a second in which he just watched her face as he slid in slowly, as though he ensured that she wasn’t being hurt. “Get on with the program.”, Rose muttered against his neck, biting his earlobe for his troubles. Erik grunted in disapproval and started moving, harsh, fast thrusts against her core. This wasn’t time for lovemaking.  _ There’s no love to make between us _ .

He retaliated by nibbling against her collarbone, not letting himself be distracted from the slick slide or his cock against her core. “Shit—“ he hissed against her skin, grabbing both of her hands and holding them high up above her head, pinning her down, but keeping his elbow bent to not fall on top of her. His other hand hastily ran down towards her leg, hoisting one of it up higher on his waist. He made sure she kept it there, before he slid his thumb between them, rubbing against her clit in a desperate attempt to help her finish before he did. Without that, Rose knew that it might not have worked at all, but that extra bit of stimulation made her muscles contract with imminent release—she moaned as she slid right past it, knowing that she had been  _ so damn close _ . “Please— _ please _ —“ she whimpered against his skin and Erik pressed his lips against her, tongue sliding against hers as he rubbed harder—stars exploded behind her eyes as her orgasm washed over her—she was sure she moaned  _ something _ ; whether it was a name,  _ yes _ or even an actual word was something she couldn’t really pinpoint with certainty.

Erik finished with a moan against her neck, shallowly thrusting a few more times before collapsing on top of her. Despite herself, Rose found the strength to wrap her arms around his neck, her fingers scratching tenderly against the short hairs at the base of his head.  _ This isn’t love. _

* * *

He took a long drew of the cigarette—Rose had been right; he had taken up smoking again. The blanket was pooled around his hips, one foot propped up against the mattress. There was a considerable space between them, even though they were both still naked. Erik exhaled the smoke through his nose thoughtfully, focusing on a spot on the wall—Rose reached her hand up towards his direction and he handed her the cigarette wordlessly. They used to do that, back in the day—share a cigarette when things got difficult.

She inhaled a couple of times, blowing smoke out between parted lips before handing back the cigarette. “It’s not going to happen again, is it?” she asked thoughtfully and Erik took another pull before shrugging. “I don’t think so.”

Rose nodded, turning her head towards him. “I could’ve loved you.” She muttered and Erik raised an eyebrow, turning his head towards her as well. He handed back the cigarette, letting his gaze run across her body with a thoughtful expression on his mind. “Yeah.” He then decided, watching her puff out smoke between red, kiss-swollen lips. “I could’ve loved you too.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woop. Is it hot in here or is it just me?

**Author's Note:**

> Phew, so this was the first chapter?? I'm kinda excited to see what you guys think. I'll post the next chapter tomorrow, I think. Thanks for reading and let me know what you think! Also I kinda see Rose as Priyanka Chopra. She is everything to me tbh. Chat with me at http://xfayewrites.tumblr.com/ !


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